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Secondhand bookshop
Ah, the smell of old paperbacks … Photograph: Martin Godwin/The Guardian
Ah, the smell of old paperbacks … Photograph: Martin Godwin/The Guardian

Old spines – why we love the smell of secondhand books

This article is more than 8 years old

A parfumier has bottled the unmistakable essence of old paperbacks. But who would want to smell like a bookshop?

You might say things were going badly for books if, rather than assuming we all encounter them on a daily basis, someone decided to bottle their essence and sell it as an exotic fragrance. “Ahh, paper – takes me right back.” “This reminds me of when I once went into a library!”

Well, that moment seems to be upon us. If I were an ebook impresario, I would be whooping with delight at the sign of the times that is Paperback by Demeter, a scent meant to evoke “a trip to your favourite library or used bookstore”. Where once perfumes promised a ride on a magic carpet to sensual Araby, now they capture the olfactory experience of handing your overdue Catherine Cooksons to a vaguely disappointed librarian.

Paperback advertises itself as “sweet and lovely, with just a touch of the mustiness of aged paper”, which sounds nice, I guess, though I wonder how it would go down socially: “Wow, you smell lovely, sort of like the Encyclopedia Britannicas in my grandad’s cellar.” Which is not to say that people should always give off the odour you expect them to – ask anyone who has ever worn Dzing! by L’Artisan Parfumeur, which is great, and smells like cardboard.

In fact, the scent of aged paper is a remarkably complex one. In an article called Material Degradomics: On the Smell of Old Books, scientists at University College London used “headspace analysis” to measure the volatile compounds produced when paper decays: among others, rosin, acetic acid, furfural and lignin. It’s the latter that does most of the work. In his review of Dzing!, perfume critic Luca Turin explains that lignin is a polymer that stops trees from drooping, and is chemically related to the molecule vanillin. “When made into paper and stored for years, it breaks down and smells good. Which is how divine providence has arranged for secondhand bookstores to smell like good-quality vanilla absolute, subliminally stoking a hunger for knowledge in all of us.”

Paperback, from Demeter – and some of the spoof air fresheners from Smell of Books

The risk that the subliminal link could be broken may have inspired jokers who recently came up with an imaginary air freshener line called Smell of Books. “Does your Kindle leave you feeling like there’s something missing from your reading experience?” its website asks. Choose between “New Book Smell”, “Classic Musty Smell” and “Scent of Sensibility”. Ah, the aroma of leather bindings, pages, glue and bookmarks. How retro.

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