Report Review

    Although Basenotes strives to ensure that all of the reviews that appear on the site follow the review guidelines, occasionally one or two reviews may slip through the net.


    Thank you for your help in making the site a more enjoyable experience



    Your details:



    Your Name

    Your Email


    Reason for reporting


    Add more information in the box below if required.
    We will review your report as soon as possible. Thank you for getting in touch.


    The review you are reporting:

    Merely's avatar
    Merely


    Show all reviews

    rating


    Blenheim Bouquet by Penhaligon's

    I recently noticed that one of my fellow commuters was a satyr. Presumably he still is one. His severe dress and stony countenance suggested that he was a barrister, judge, or civil servant; but who would employ a goat-legged monster from ancient Greece? Musing on stories of satyrs' wild debauches, I anticipated that he would smell of civet or musk. Instead, he diffused the pine-scented disinfectant used to obscure the smell of urine in public lavatories. Thus I was reminded of rankly animalic odours by smelling the familiar resins of their arrest. Later, however, he smelled of a forest undisturbed by winds, and that saw little light. A place of sylvan melancholy that was simultaneously so worldly, and so hostile to reverie, that it could make a satyr seem prosaic as he waited on the platform of a country railway station. An almost incense-like pepper underlay the low throb of cedar and pine, and I think he must have risen that morning from a bed of lavender. This floral part of his bouquet was subdued, and resembled the French flower more than the British one. I guessed that his pillow had been stuffed with the dried peels of lemons and limes. I was musing on these things when the train to the capital appeared. As it ground to a halt, I said to the satyr: "May I wonder, sir, from which bleak grove or gloomy copse you have stepped? I know the forests around here fairly well, and cannot imagine you in any one of them. Perhaps they have a side I had not discerned. Would you please tell me the name of your ancestral wood?" "Blen'm," he bleated, then boarded the train with a stiff little leap. I have not seen him since.

    20th September, 2012 (Last Edited: 21st September, 2012)