The fragrances known as soliflores, meant to represent a single material or flower, nice as they may be, have a hard time competing with the best perfumes unless they cheat in more interesting directions, because, unlike perfumers, flowers aren’t interested in us. Having heard innumerable passionate panegyrics on the smell of this or that blossom—honeysuckle, mimosa, gardenia, rose, linden, lily of the valley, get out your garden catalog and fill in the rest—I have taken the time to poke my face into many flowers, after checking for biting or stinging inhabitants. They have smelled mostly pleasant, occasionally harsh or disappointingly simple, ethereal or syrup