"A Drop of Perfume in an Open Wound" by Katya Kachur, summary

This book, written in 2020, tells the story of the complex destinies of two gifted individuals. The text immerses the reader in a dense world of scents and sounds, telling stories of painful attachment, brutal creative burnout, and inevitable loneliness. The author weaves elements of harsh realism with subtle mysticism, creating a rich atmosphere of the television backstage and the capital’s underground perfume market.

Childhood and separation

Asya and Slavochka met in early childhood during long lessons at music school. The girl played an old piano, acting as an accompanist. The boy diligently mastered the violin. Harsh Moscow winters left painful cracks on Asya’s delicate hands — red pimples that bled in the icy wind. The children returned home through snowstorms, trudging through kilometers of snow-covered streets.

One day, Slavochka fell ill, his temperature rising to 39.5 degrees Celsius. In his feverish delirium, the little violinist constantly saw his girlfriend’s cold-wounded hands. He imagined someone deathly green blowing icy air onto her skin. The illness intimately linked their fears. Even then, a strong, invisible bond formed between the children.

The adult protagonists exist in parallel universes. The man reaches the pinnacle of musical success, filling audiences worldwide with thousands. The woman plummets to the very bottom of the social ladder, losing her former acumen and professional skills. They become stark opposites. One basks in the glow of fame, the other disappears into the faceless urban crowd. However, their destinies remain inextricably linked. The past constantly catches up with them, forcing them to relive old grievances.

The harsh everyday life of a television center

As an adult, Asya pursued a career as a television producer and journalist. She worked at the Ostankino Television Center, facing the frantic pace of live broadcasts every day. The slang of television professionals became the language of her hectic daily routine. She used "timeless" stories — pre-prepared, universal plots — to fill sudden pauses in the broadcast.

Asya rushes through endless corridors, searching for replacements for the Zapashny brothers’ sick circus animals. A tiger vomits in the car, and she has to save the episode. She intercepts classical musicians before concerts, recruiting them for filming. This grueling race demands a colossal commitment. The journalist is constantly on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

During one of her work trips, Asya finds herself in a dangerous situation. The journalist finds herself locked in a luxurious hotel room with regional Deputy Prime Minister Vitaly Arkadyevich. The high-ranking official strolls around in a robe, revealing his hairy legs. The man pours expensive champagne, moves an ice bucket closer, and hints at intimacy.

The frightened girl shows her wits. She lies about having an incurable immune disease, claiming she’s incapable of giving pleasure in bed. The stunned politician laughs in surprise, but loses all interest in violence. Asya drinks the sparkling champagne. She eats the offered potatoes and fried meat and leaves the ill-fated room.

The world of the underground and aromas

The grueling work on television leads to a severe creative crisis. The chief director bluntly tells Asya that she is completely unsuitable for the job. He brutally overwhelms the journalist with the smell of cheap perfume and booze. The former on-air star loses her beloved job, her stable income, and her status.

The girl plunges into poverty. During this dark period, her heightened sense of smell becomes her reliable salvation. Asya collects rare fragrances. She finds solace in a secret community of metropolitan perfume maniacs. Scents replace real life for her. Fragrances bring brief flashes of former happiness.

Late one evening, Asya descends into the echoing metro for a long-awaited transaction. A huge, rosy-cheeked fellow, weighing over a hundred kilograms, hands her a heavy cardboard box. Inside is a black lacquered box, reminiscent of a coffin. Within the coffin, resting on draped silk, is a bottle of the rare perfume "De la nuit 2 Roja." The lid is adorned with large black crystals.

The journalist removes the crystal stopper. She dabs a drop of perfume onto her slender wrist. The scent transports her to another dimension entirely. The powerful chords of Rachmaninoff’s Prelude in G minor wash over her. The music drowns out the roar of arriving trains, the hubbub of humanity, and the demonic howl of the subway’s drafts.

The Price of Genius

Slavochka’s life takes a different turn. The talented violinist reaches incredible heights, becoming a global sensation. He earns enormous royalties. The genius moves into a luxurious apartment on Starokonyushenny Lane. The home is striking in its opulence. Expensive silk carpets line the floor, and graphic lightboxes adorn the walls.

The builders combined the old storage room with the bathroom. They created a luxurious Turkish bath with a cast-iron bathtub resting on massive lion paws. He gives up his former apartment in the Krylatskoye district to friends without the slightest regret. The maestro’s face sternly stares down at Muscovites from giant advertising billboards.

Despite his public success, Slavochka remains an unhappy man. An inner emptiness consumes him from within. The musician cannot forget his childhood love. Every rare meeting with the lost Asya ends in real physical torment.

His fingers, masterfully composing brilliant music, ache horribly. His phalanges twist with unbearable spasms. This physical pain serves as cruel retribution for past mistakes and human betrayal. Two infinitely lonely people are constantly pushed apart. They meet again only to inflict further suffering on each other.

Farewell on the podium

At the end of the book, Asya finds herself on a strange, elevated platform, reminiscent of a pedestal. She clearly understands the inevitable end of her earthly journey. A crowd of weeping people gathers silently around her. Among them are her former colleagues, famous actors, and animals. Nika silently cries out in overwhelming grief. Nekhoroshev wipes bitter tears from his face.

Actor Ralph Fiennes freezes in slow motion. Cats peer into the soul with bewildered eyes. Every word spoken by the journalist seems to be an absolute truth, cast in heavy gold.

Slavochka stands at the forefront of the mourning crowd. The exhausted violinist clutches his temples with his deformed fingers. The maestro invites Asya to play Rachmaninoff’s part from the second number onward. The musician wants to repeat their old graduation exam. He gathers up his courage and declares his undying love.

The man says his friend Kostik advised him to open up to the very end. Asya, with a slight sadness, reciprocates. The journalist admits that she, too, has always loved him. Deep, old resentments had prevented them from being together for too long.

A step into eternity

The mysterious sorcerer Yura approaches Asya through the parting crowd. His face radiates absolute calm and warm friendliness. A calico cat named Dulcinea floats in midair next to him. Yura strictly forbids the girl to descend from her high pedestal.

The man asks her to look deep within herself. Asya obediently lowers her gaze. She discovers an elegant attachment beneath her ribs — a small silver hook. It emits a pleasant, cool light. On this glowing hook, neatly folded, like a huge, dense parachute, is her human soul.

The sorcerer urges Asya to cast aside her fears. He asks her to unhook the parachute from the silver hook. Yura confidently declares that people who cry will inevitably sort out their problems themselves. The girl greedily inhales the new, unfamiliar scent. It lacks a single familiar earthly note.

She sees the creaky gate of the old dacha open before her. The green tops of the oak grove rustle welcomingly beyond the door. Stasik’s eternally youthful father waves to her, still smoking a cigarette. Asya takes a deep breath of fresh air and removes her parachute.

The white dome opens with a ringing sound. The soul begins to spin in a wide spiral. It leaves a shimmering trail. Then the white wings are caught in a powerful stream of air. The soul dissolves forever in the blue.