Grimoire

Well I'm sorry, it will take a long time to read because I will be able to write pages on Grimoire as it is inspiring for me ... Grimoire is a magnificent perfume and curiously it reminds me also of a hated and intriguing perfume: Rien (from ELDO ). On the one hand I find it extremely mysterious, attractive as well as repulsive (well not too much otherwise I will not have bought it), let's say that it is not a mass appeal, it is undoubtedly very niche with all the finesse of work, but also with all the risk that it does not please. I find it sweet (not sugary), and of a 'benevolence' and if in this Grimoire we find tales inscribed on parchments: they tell us authentic stories of Nature, secrets buried under this damp and cold earth and in the high perched ivy ... they are linked to these constructions which by dint of holding on to take over the soul of men and a little of their scent without any shame ... I find there odors of patchouli, damp earth, saliva, of soap, and aromatic plants lying around. Handcrafted incense burns in the heart of a forest where ancient trees rise above the dark, damp and dusty carpet on which their roots overlap and cross. The slow smoke escaping from a chapel supports the singing of the monks but accentuates the mystery of this sacred place ... it is a meaning hidden from the men perhaps who will not listen but it is a melody that carries us away if we pay attention. The empty monastery, henceforth, is only so in appearance because wherever we look these stones speak to us, make us feel what once was ... incense persists on the damp walls and the foam colored with spices is adorned with a perfume that we would like to take with us ... meditation in these places is quite indicated but while we are heading towards an exit in ruins it seems, we come out impregnated because we are so linked to these ancestors so devoid of material but not spiritual! There is precisely a spirituality in this perfume and an almost naked humanity, a still vivid memory which teaches in our modern life all the lived experience it has had ... it is a mystery, and if the pages of this Grimoire are cold, all the spells it contains are still burning with life This perfume is sublime, you just have to agree on one thing, the hidden entrance must be sought through a dark, almost suffocating opening ... it went to tap into this cold and dusty Grimoire, our beautiful memory! Thank you Anatole for creating and sharing it

Rarely you find a fragrance that seriously shock your mind. Yes this fragrance really deserve more attention. I give to it 5 star. A Grimoire is a book of magic spells and invocations. Every single witch has to have one where to write her personal sorceries. Here the goal has perfecly been reached. When you smell this fragrance you are immediatly transported into a magic obsure realm. Harry Potter? Lord of the Rings? Could be. Maybe it is so for the youngest generations. I was a child in the 80s so with Grimoire I see pictures of Conan the Barbare, Excalibur, Labyrinth. It is somenthing that connect with your unconscious probably. Personally I also see the house of the mother of a friend of mine, she was passionate in astrology and tarot, and when we were teen we use to go to her house to discover the secrets of our future. The house, full of ebony wood furnitures, indian carpets, burning incenses, had that smell. Is the first think I have thought when I first smelled this creation. I add than the vial of Grimoire it was in a little bag with about other 15 vials I received. The sachet fall on the floor. The only vial which breaks is Grimoire. What a curse! I imagine this fragrance floating inside the studio of the Count of Cagliostro, Nostradamus, Leonardo da Vinci, even Merlin. Open an ampoule with a green liquid slowly boil inside and Grimoire is the scent that you expect to smell. To simplify this is mainly a woody spicy dark green incense fragrance, one incense really gothic without be churchy or waxy neither common. Disquieting cold sulfuric flowers sleeps inside the bottle. If you want to feel 100% Maleficent for one night this is your perfume. A real little masterpiece, simple, artisanal, but finely orchestred. An experience you must have.

Grimoire opens with a strong cedar, cumin and olibanum, as well as short-lived winks of a lovely sweetness (from basil maybe? unclear). Early stages also have some light lavender that relatively quickly turns into mostly powdery aspects. Overall, Grimoire actually lands warmer and softer on my skin than anticipated. Cumin doesn't tend to turn into body odour on me so I guess I'm lucky there :D Now, I initially got interested in Grimoire as it was mentioned in a bunch of posts and recommendations for gothic, religious-themed fragrances and I'd love to honour the legacy of my Catholic shame with a fitting perfume, something dark that evokes the feeling of empty cathedrals and such. I legit have no clue as to why Grimoire might have ended up recommended in these posts because there's nothing dark or gothic about it. What it does evoke is the vibes of a bunch of monks cramped in a dusty monastery (which, from what I know, was closer to Grimoire's goal). We've got herbal aspects, spices, woods, incense and a warm, musky amber base. The drydown comes even closer to evoking skin with, dare I say, some subtle hints of animalics, and the overall effect is this: cuddly monks. I swear, it makes me think of happy, plump monks who would welcome you in with a bowl of hearty stew and sit around the fireplace gossiping and sampling Father Albert's latest batch of mead. While I don't really know what occasion I might wear this cuddly monk perfume for, I am definitely enjoying my sample a lot! End stage drydown is a pleasant, sweet ambery musk. Performance: minimum of 7-8h longevity and the upper end of moderate sillage (I'd say strong sillage for the first 2 hours).

Definitely a weird one, and not one I go to often, but whenever I do, it's always an experience. It has a bright-ish citrus opening, but that disappears almost immediately, replaced by a sort of roasted - not burnt - and slightly sweet/balsamic, but bitter and very dry potpourri for the remainder of the time. It's not cooking spices for me as much as it is dried herbs and spices that smell nice, and then caramelized. I don't seem to be nearly as affronted by cumin as most people, and enjoy things like Al Oudh and Les Jeux Sont Faits, FWIW. I'd say it does some justice to the idea of a book of spells, but not completely. It is quite dry and dusty, and does smell like some of the ingredients have been sitting on a shelf for a long time. Maybe a little bit of leather would have topped off the effect. If you're offended by cumin and cooking spices, then you can easily pass on this. If you like artsy scents with lots of spices (Villoresi's Piper Nigrum in the original bottle comes to mind), then you might like this. A very original and personal perfume, and not exactly easy to like, but it certainly doesn't smell cheap. Would probably please people into fantasy, gaming, cosplay, eyes of newt, etc. The obvious season for it is autumn, but I've worn it in all seasons and it still works. More niche than most. For interesting spell-casters of both sexes.

Smokey, fresh, spicy incense. Not your gas station or wellness shop incense, but ceremonial grade, unprocessed resins and saps that require a smoldering coal puck to burn, obtained from a botanica or wild-foraged. Greenery under moonlight, where light and shadow alike possess a silver glimmer. The aromatic herbs, moss-covered woods, and lavender edge the profile into dead center unisex while incorporating some of the most masculine leaning notes, including cedarwood. Grimoire lives up to its witchy name, a sensual fall trance-state scent. Fans of Andrea Maack's Coven that find it too esoteric or avant garde for public wear will be pleased to sport Grimoire's offering, something of a lovechild from the fantasy union of Coven & Passage d'Enfer. My sample is a dabber, so I can't speak to projection or sillage. The longevity (again, from a dabber) is mild, with the sharper woods and resins tapering off to a lightly-incensed soft patchouli & musk within a few hours. I purchased a sample of this in spring, and vowed to wait until October's macabre season to smell it, which I'd highly recommend if what drew you to this scent is the name!

Another really similar scent to the unsi we burn back home. A variant of it that’s more heavily frankincense leaning. Pale and pure and raw and daunting. I burn this variant when I’m not entertaining anyone and just need to feel something. This smells like what a velvet cloak smells like in a room that’s had a lot of it burning. The velvety thickness is almost nutty or I guess candle waxy as others have put it. I can see how honey is perceived too. The scent has a rounder plush shape as it enters my nose. The first few minutes are a bit scary though I thought I’m sure ppl r gonna think I didn’t wear deodorant but I get compliments easily so it’s not that challenging. Again we have to remember sometimes scents come off more challenging to us because we examine them closely. But to many passerby’s they just smell it in the air and don’t think too deeply about it. The only scents I have trouble with in public are the chypres lol but people really like frankincense perfumes probably bc it’s a timeless classic scent that is sacred to every culture on earth basically. #Worldpeace ✌🏾

A powerful perfume with a medieval charm. There's a beautiful contradiction in the play of incisive top notes + atmospheric incense and cedar; a marriage of two distinct melodies into one hypnotic symphony of scent. I love the bergamot-cumin-basil (I don't get any lavender) but anyone who dislikes cumin should stay well away; this is it amplified, evocative of focused, animalic effort. I love the effect of the golden-hued incense with this sharp pungency. Inhaling this conjures imagery of a passionate sorcerer in a dark, candle-lit chamber. My mage is surrounded by cedar chests and lovingly carved bowls, deep deep in the heart of a mossy forest away from any chance of disturbance. This is a perfume best worn for intense, creative work in solitude. It's an enhancer. It would be lost in a social situation, as would a grimoire... at best misunderstood, at worst reviled. Perfume for appreciative perfume-loving types. Distillation: atmospheric scent incisive and diffused contradictory

deep rather than broad- sexy and subtly luminous, like hallucinogenic moss pressed between the pages of a medieval X-File. i’ve found the longevity to be 6 to 7 hours in autumn and winter, but am unsure about siliage and projection, as i wear this one only for myself/when i’m sure nobody else will be around! (for any who may be wary of a stale sweat accord that can accompany cumin notes, i’d say this scent is still very much worth sampling- the bergamot really freshens the overall composition.)

Grimoire is the perfume of sorcery: a perfectly blended concoction of olibanum, cumin, resins, herbs and dust particles. After the animalic opening settles, there’s an easy going creaminess to this scent that I find appealing. If Grimoire were to cast a spell, it would not be out of malevolence. No, this scent is all about the earth, nature and falling in love. Impressive performance from just one spray, Grimoire sums up all the reasons I’m addicted to discovering new perfume.

A beautiful and nauseating perfume, quite the contradiction. The burst of olibanum and cumin really hit you right at the beginning. Olibanum has always had a cold, metallic, and citrus quality to me. While artistic, it's nearly unwearable for me at this point. But the drydown - oh, it's beautiful! The cumin and cedar combine to create the scent of a log cabin, its walls warm from the fireplace. Spellbinding. A friendly witch's cabin.

Usually cumin gets way to prominent on my skin and I smell like a packed subway without AC. And this is a cumin bomb, but it's soo pleasurable, smooth and creamy with the resins and oakmoss. I love it! Something to try if cumin or oud gets too much like BO on you, like for me with Salome and Songe d'un Bois d'Ete. On the other hand, my partner that loves Salome (on himself) was not impressed by this one.

Sublime fresh herbal opening that slowly warms up into a horsey and incensy scent. The contrast between the aromatic notes and the dirty cumin lightened by the incense is fascinating, perfectly balanced and executed. This perfume literally blooms on my skin in cold weather and stays with me all day long. The more I wear it the more I enjoy it. I'm in love

Turns out this is perfect for church. I don’t really go to church, not on a regular basis. But they had a Sit in Silence event, and while I sat there, Grimoire suddenly made sense. I love Coven and this is its less approachable sibling. Not something I’d wear in crowds, but just for me.

I get the bergamot right away...but it gets softened by sweet incense/woody/musky notes...it gets musty?...yes there's a sense of oldness mixed in with the fruit...very interesting and very wearable...

I own and love this fragrance but it always has a distinct affinity with furniture wax or floor polish when I wear it.

Anatole Lebreton scents usually lean towards the super-loud and one-note, but Grimoire is subtle and complex. A light, dry incense with a bit of cumin skank, and a refined, classical feel. A few minutes in, it sweetens slightly and makes me think of herbal honey, still on a backdrop of dry mossy incense. And then we settle into Oakmoss World: black, peppery, incense-inflected, grimy oakmoss, with just a lingering aura of (abstracted, pleasant) sweat. Even later in the drydown, Grimoire warms up and becomes a slightly sweetened earthy cumin aura. And later still, it goes back to a honeyed-herbal-medicinal vibe, gold-green and strange yet soothing. This is a weird little fragrance. I think it might almost be an heir to old-school earthy, mossy chypres (Rochas Mystere, Halston) except that it’s sheerer, less “perfumey”, and more incense-dominated. Grimoire twists and turns; it doesn’t hit you over the head with a strong personality. It feels “modern” in that it’s made of different overlapping facets in equal balance; neither minimalist nor symphonic, but more like chamber music. (Luca Turin calls it an “olfactory sonata”, which gets at the same quality: a graceful little contraption.) Definitely my favorite Anatole Lebreton so far; despite the chypre DNA, I think it reads as unisex.

#1284 in my "Tour de Fragrance" Got this as a decant. When I first pulled the stopper the blast of cumin had me thinking I wasn't going to be a fan, but on the skin that cumin blast blended in quickly with what is a mild, mossy and pleasant olibanum scent. I gave Andrea Maack's "Coven" to a girlfriend, as she liked it more than I did. Coven smells mossy like this, minus the incense, so if you're a witchy woman that finds this is too churchy, Coven would be a good option for you. This mostly reminds of some incense candles I bought on ETSY from a company appropriately named "Midnight Mass", that feature incense, balsam and smoked citrus. This scent is very mild-mannered, stays in the background, so certainly not going to be anyone's signature scent. I probably wouldn't wear this for casual wear, or in a day-to-day business setting, but okay for formal events where the seating is tight, like an orchestral performance, as it's inoffensive in close proximity (because the performance is unimpressive. It'll make it through a dinner date in cold weather. Not a summer scent for sure.). The price I'm finding isn't great, $120 for 50 ml, which is a lot for something I would not wear that often, so not a priority buy for me.

The name made me expect something much more dark, opaque and grim, yet it is well justified - Grimoire is a kind of magic, sparkly yet mistical. The reviewer below said it - it's a spell cast, but it also has a healing, purifying quality - olibanum and a pack of herbs, spice and moss. The spell is here not to deceive, enchant, but to reveal, to unfold. Another powerful dimension I get from Grimoire is a remarkable perfume history reference; to my nose, it's an aromatic fougere of an old-school fragrance that feels almost like a hommage to Roudnitska's Eau d'Hermes (minus leather). Perhaps less casual than Roudnitska's masterpiece, but still very similar - cumin seems to have this dissolute effect on different noses, here it perfectly unites sweet, mellow notes (lavender, elemi, musk) with more masculine side (olibanum, woody, moss). Despite of everything, Grimoire is not a difficult fragrance to wear; it balances nicely with balmy, spicy, subtly sweet, a bit green, a bit dirty, mossy - impression is uncommon but calming. On moments it's almost refreshing with lots of character. Another time it's deeply reflective, melancholic, solitary..

I kinda blind-bought this one after smelling it only on fabric, and it's such a good surprise. To my nose, it's a lot of olibanum, basil, and lavender in the opening, with a woody/mossy dry down. They gave me the little booklet with the perfume, and it's made to evoke the garden of a monastery, the crypt, and the books, witnesses to these lives devoted to spirituality. It works pretty well; to me, it does evoke a little convent in the mountains in Cyprus where the sisters are making honey and soap and spend the rest of the day praying and doing chores. I love this idea of the spiritual and material word, reunited in a sunny garden. On skin, it's really beautiful, especially the basil, which is not culinary at all; it's a touch of green that keeps Grimoire from being another olibanum scent. The cumin is nice in the drydown, it's not too strong to me and it makes for a pretty surprising fragrance that's not linear at all.

Loved the opening and thought I might be in for something akin to Fate Man by Amouage after that waft of cumin, and blasting of piney citrus, incense. The drydown is much more of an olibanum dominant affair though and my critisism....a little too much so. It's a bit linear for me but I have to say either the accord or most likely the olibanum used is of excellent quality, it really does shimmer with a silvery goodness and in lesser hands may not be a liable perfume (despite being fantastic material) but here it's sheperded to a much finer and more polished place than the usual crop of indy, incense perfumes. I like it, but I'd like it more if those spicy top notes stuck around a little longer and if it really put the boot in and cracked up to 11, I'd probably rave about this perfume and it's lovely olibanum centric themes.

it's strange to read all these emotional review of a very simple composition, all about the quality of the essences. It start with a blast of cumin bergamot and incense, it's very fresh and mineral ( instead of being too urinous or sweatie as often perceive with cumin, even if i love that side too). The evolution is greener , a mix of calming and therapeutic herbs with only a tiny note of patchouli in the base who plays with the cumin on the naughty side. If you tolerate the blast of cumin in Déclaration de Cartier and l'Eau d'Hermès you'll enjoy this one as much as it deserves it.

This fragrance is a Grimoire in a bottle. A mysterious and very old book. I can read Tolkien, or Harry Potter, etc with this scent. To my nose, it is a herbal and animalic incense fragrance. You have a touch of wood, paper, etc. For fall and winter, your are in a monastery... It is calm and peaceful. I cannot wear it, it is more a piece of art. Dont blind buy, you need to try it. Very original and intriguing. For some particular moment.

Opens with a very quick burst of citrus, a piney balsamic accord and something like camphor but not quite. It then wears like a resinous fresh forest with a bit of cumin for a few hours before an interesting dry down of sweet warm dust. It’s been a little while since I sampled something that wasn’t completely linear from start to finish, this is a beautiful fragrance. I do wish I got more of the promised cedar.

Stiff sheafs of parchment branded with iron-gall ink, sweat-soaked and tattered robes, pestle-beaten herbs, goat hair, a long-unwashed beard. If you’ve the bravery to journey through the skanky and disorienting haze of cumin, you’ll find something revelatory, almost even sweet: Radagastian, feral, cryptic, scholarly, benevolent, unsettling, musty, mossy, medieval. Grimoire lingers and lingers, like dust.

- Remember that Meereen dungeon where Daenerys kept her big, feral, pubertal dragons? After unimaginable time had passed, after the dragons were gone, even their poops turning into fossils , their fiery breath still resonating in the stone chambers, This is the smell lingered in that dusty dungeon . Also, my cat loves it. Probably reminds him of his dried litter.

Spicy rose fragrance. I’ve been on a rose-and-cumin kick lately, and this one really hits that craving. It’s bold, sharp, and confidently unisex. Performance is decent, with enough longevity and presence to keep the character noticeable without becoming overwhelming. Not bad but there are better cumin/rose options out there.

herbal incense spell cast on a dusty vanilla heavy amber. i love the lavender when it shines in the opening minutes, then it recedes to the back and only leaves behind a trail of heavy dust.

the cobwebbed collection of metaphysical relics found on a garden hermit’s stone desk

The opening is a little complex at first, but the two most distinguishable notes are parchment and a hint of citrus. Once it settles down, additional notes can be detected, but they blend together very well. There's a peppery cumin note and a broad cedar note pulling everything together nicely. Overall, it's a pleasant mossy, woody fragrance. This is a warm, bright fragrance that would be perfect for a crisp, sunny autumn day. The drydown is heavy on the cumin and has a dry dirtiness about it, like desert ground or a dusty cowboy, but it maintains that mild splash of citrus and a touch of cedar. This scent is very subtle. I accidentally spilled 1 ml on myself, and the strength is still about equal to a regular amount of other fragrances (or only slightly stronger).

I wanted to like this fragrance, and I almost do like it, but not quite. The initial burst of sweet bergamot wasn't to my taste, but as it faded away, a really wonderful, warm incense note emerged. I've been looking for a good incense-heavy fragrance, and this one has quite decent longevity and projects well, so I was hoping I'd found that. However, that unfortunate bergamot note of citrus candy - not candied citrus, but a chalky citrus-flavoured kid's sweet - lingered with just enough strength that I couldn't fully enjoy this fragrance. I don't see anyone else mentioning such a scent, so it's probable that my skin chemistry just reacts to this formula in a very unfortunate way. The incense is fantastic, though. I would love to smell this on someone who isn't me.

A sharp light green bergamot start, which unfortunately reminds me of a refreshing urinal puck all the time. Beautifully executed humidity, coldness and cellar mustiness, a wheel of ripening cheese only cautiously peeks out from behind the corner, a little sweat (cumin) and a lot of green herbs correspond vividly to the projected old monastery. Unfortunately, the competition is not asleep, so the originality is not complete, I immediately think of the cheaper combo ELDO Rien/Rien Intense, which, although darker green and with forest undertones, will maintain a very similar vision much longer, AL loses its strength too quickly, it would also be worth tuning the toilet freshener point down. 125 Euro per 50ml is not that bad, but could be a bit lower.

I've ordered a bunch of witchy-themed fragrance samples to play with this fall and Grimoire was among them. So far most of them seem better suited to candle scent than personal fragrance, and Grimoire is no different. It's earthy, animalic, spicy, and the cedar reads ever-so-slightly sweet in the drydown, which makes it slightly more wearable than the others I'm sampling, but the veil of rot that exists over the whole composition may mean I explore my sample without adding it to my list of bottles to collect. It's definitely a dark work of art, for a certain place and time, but I don't really have the budget to be purchasing fragrances for obscure moments.

Grimoire falls just short of my expectations. I am almost fooled into falling in love, with its peculiar elemi and cumin opening reminding me of something haunting and surreal. However, the quite pragmatic side of me snaps me out of it, and reminds me that I've been under the spell before, and all I need to do is reach my Al Oudh, Aziyade, or Lorenzo Villoresi Spezie. Not even the heavy olibanum is enough to make me change my mind. I already have this covered, and with far more dynamic dimensions. Grimoire ALMOST got me, though.

very strong citric-sweet opening, elemi and bergamot above all. it almost seems like a colony. in fact comes the lavender and oak moss typical of the 70s colonies. the hated cumin is too present. opening to fail. old school opening but I feel it's developing. smell of old books? yes but very slowly. is a really cold perfume. perhaps as many say it smells like an old empty church? yes but it also smells like an old wool sweater kept in a mountain closet. here: it smells like my wooden mountain cabinets after a year of not going there. damp wood with too much citrus undertone though. evolution is very, very slow indeed. the incense is in the background but really sipped. sometimes it smells like dish soap with a mix of damp woods. remotely but very remotely it smells like an abandoned church or damp books and paper as I said before. it is certainly a bomb. but it gives me a headache. in short it is a colony with a slight addition of olibanum. the result is just that. the attempt to create the old-books-old church atmosphere is appreciable but unsuccessful. really crazy sillage and performance. slowly it becomes what they want (books and church). but it's not very wearable for my taste. I repeat I appreciate the attempt. 6/10

very strong citric-sweet opening, elemi and bergamot above all. it almost seems like a colony. in fact comes the lavender and oak moss typical of the 70s colonies. the hated cumin is too present. opening to fail. old school opening but I feel it's developing. smell of old books? yes but very slowly. is a really cold perfume. perhaps as many say it smells like an old empty church? yes but it also smells like an old wool sweater kept in a mountain closet. here: it smells like my wooden mountain cabinets after a year of not going there. damp wood with too much citrus undertone though. evolution is very, very slow indeed. the incense is in the background but really sipped. sometimes it smells like dish soap with a mix of damp woods. remotely but very remotely it smells like an abandoned church or damp books and paper as I said before. it is certainly a bomb. but it gives me a headache. in short it is a colony with a slight addition of olibanum. the result is just that. the attempt to create the old-books-old church atmosphere is appreciable but unsuccessful. really crazy sillage and performance. slowly it becomes what they want (books and church). but it's not very wearable for my taste. I repeat I appreciate the attempt. 6/10

Is good but i must change my review. I it's a good attempt to change the classic fragrance of oliban into something different. but they have done too much. too much cumin, too much lavender, too much elemi, too much basil, too much oak moss and too much cedar wood, with the result of get a scent similar to the 80s as quorum or paco rabanne pour homme with a background of olibano.result? a great headache.6 / 10

Meh. There's that dank sweat smell up front - almost fecal, I thought on first whiff there might be hyrax or ambergris in there but it's just musk & cumin - and there's the typical church incense in the background. After a bit the muskiness airs off and it's a pretty basic sweet incense. A little boring.

This was very herbal on me, I just kept smelling licorice for the first 20 minutes. And then it was just ground cumin and then just stale patchouli. Just skip it.

an underground cemetery with sweet flowers. not very dark but stony and sweet in the non-gourmand sense with basic olibanum. very strong. incredibly strong. 9/10

Medieval grimoire, or "books of spells", were primarily scholarly, handwritten texts used from the High Middle Ages to document rituals, talismans, and the summoning of spirits. Derived from the Old French grammaire (grammar), these books often blended Christian prayers with occult practices, focusing on ceremonial magic rather than folk witchcraft. They served as textbooks for educated practitioners (often clergy) to perform rituals, create talismans, and invoke spirits and well-being. Middle Ages scholars claimed there are a few really important grimoires in that period: The Sworn Book of Honorius, the Picatrix, and the Ars Notoria (pic.2). The magical figures in the Ars Notoria are key to unlocking the doors to the disciplines of knowledge. Through angelic assistance and inspecting the figures by the art of memory, the practitioner is able to acquire the knowledge he seeks. Anatole surely did his extensive research because the ingredient in hos Grimoire are an astounding evocation of a sweat monk - yeah, sweat: do you think they were smelling of roses more than one thousand years ago? - in his stoned moldy abbey applying the rituals contened in his old and dusty manuscript of the Ars Notoria. He needs to be focused, empty minded whilehe plays with the herbs just picked form the Abbey's garden; the fresh aromatic zest of mint and basil interlaces with the savoury cumin creating an alluring opening. There are whiffs of lavender that soon joins the duo: the aromatic kind, pungent just slightly floral; its magical properties being that of promoting chastity. The cumin, that will be present for all the duration of the scent, will start to subside while a very beautiful (and very heavy! and that is what I like) olibanum comes to the fore. The scents vecomes the more intimate and the more evocative, while the lavender gets dustier and dustier, creating that stone-grey impression typical of Gris Clair. Whit the patchouli and cedar of the base, we get the impression of old dusty manuscripted pages within the minerality of a crypt inside the abbey. For me Grimoire is about tranquillity. Do not trust what you heard about the excessive cumin: try it by yourself and be your own judge. This is one of the most evocative pieces in my entire collection!

I’d completely forgotten about this little sample tucked away in my box for years, and revisiting Grimoire has been such a rewarding surprise. It opens with a striking blend of cumin and resinous olibanum, immediately giving off a warm, spicy-balsamic aura that feels both grounding and intriguing. The elemi adds a slightly citrusy brightness, while lavender and basil weave through the composition, giving it a subtle aromatic lift that keeps the spice from turning too dense. As it settles, the character becomes more atmospheric. Moss and Atlas cedar create a damp, woody texture that instantly reminds me of aged book covers in quiet library archives - dusty, slightly musty but deeply comforting. There’s also this unmistakable “after-the-rain” quality, like walking through a pine forest where the air is cool, green and softly resinous. Patchouli and musk anchor everything into a smooth, earthy dry-down that lingers beautifully on skin. It definitely carries that sacred, almost mystical mood people often mention - educing temples or old churches, where incense has soaked into the wood and stone. Dark, contemplative and quietly powerful. Performance is excellent, especially in cool, damp weather where the scent really comes alive. After spending the past year immersed in gourmands, returning to something like this has been refreshing, it reminded me how much I appreciate spicy, woody, fougère-leaning compositions. It feels like retraining my nose, rediscovering depth and atmosphere beyond sweetness. A truly evocative and transportive scent.

Grimoire from Anatole LeBreton features a lemony-balsamic sweetness suggestive of curative sweets and a cryptic dustiness evocative of brittle parchment and rare texts, all encircled with a pungent fog of bitter, caramelized cumin and decomposing mosses and herbs. This scent conjures imagery from a 17th-century oil painting steeped in alchemical knowledge and symbolism and ancient traditions mingling science, philosophy, faith, and artistic spirit: “A shadowy scenario unfolds as a lone wax candle burns deep into the night. Various lenses and prisms refract the faint glow of the flickering flame to vaguely illuminate a crude, darkened laboratory, whereupon an oaken table, dusty flasks precariously balanced, bubble with a disquieting phosphorescence and engines of distillation chug and clank murkily nearby. Brittle scrolls and yellowed manuscripts, embellished with colorful emblems and arcane symbols scribbled hastily in the margins, are scattered haphazardly on a dirt floor to further illustrate this scene of curious chemical phenomena and scholarly chaos. A wan, stocking-footed man with a funny cap alternately pores pensively over massive tomes or perhaps pumps a small bellow to encourage a sullen, smoking fire, while lost in analytical reverie.” Yes, this is what Grimoire smells like. Yes, I did just quote a passage from The Art of the Occult, a book that I wrote. Is that tacky to mention? Maybe. Is it relevant? Entirely!

This is the ugliest, moldiest, dirtiest, funkiest, most pleasurable, delightful and gratifying fragrance you will encounter this year. This is very O'driu-like. Unapologetically quirky. This unconventional fragrance is impressively rich and structured. This has some firm mossyness that's balanced by dense olibanum and cedar. This dusty cobbler shows a character of power, strength and security. The elimi and moss complement an undeniably present flirtation of mucky cumin rough like gravel that persists and pleases, as medium-bodied weight gives in to a breadth of spicy complexity. Old Books, antiques are correct adjectives when describing this. Way deep in the dry down there's a pissy combination of moss and elemi that's unpleasant. Smells like an abandoned gas station bathroom. If you are fond of the following fragrances then Grimoire is not for you: Prada Candy/Paco Rabanne 1 million/Acqua Di Gio/Flowerbomb/Chanel no 5/La Nuit de l'homme. You must graduate from designer fragrances to like this one.

It's a combination of spices, milky, & creamy blend with hints of sweets from the anise. It's a harsh antique room full of old books of darkness and some bottles that contains mummified animals and that what just came on my mind once I sniffed it, And when I search for it's meaning I just realize that it has something to do with magic. It's quite dusky and dusty as explaining the smell of the movie "from dusk till dawn". Anatole liberton is one of the artists who really impresses me by his techniques of blending, besides his amusing imagination that fills up every bottle and creation he creates. Well done Anatole. Edit (18th Dec 2019) Wow, the colder the noughtier this blend gets! i get that amazing olibanum, greeny, dusty, and yet sweet mix of magic and an enchantment land! Right now i am getting that "Dungeons & Dragons" 1983 Cartoons! and it also give me the vibes of "Amber Noir" by Angela Flanders with that dill, sweet, amber, and animalic. Superbly amazing.

So much cumin and basil, you'd think you were cooking something!! I love the imagination in this. On cold sniff (from the nozzle) you definitely get the dusty book essence, but when you spray it on skin it warms up into something else. Dusty spellbooks? Sure. Unwashed musky skin, but a hint of clean soapy candles? Yep, that's there. Smoky incense and a hint of campfire wood. There's also a goatlike odor that sits there, underlying. Not offensive, but also not pretty. Telling a story. You can close your eyes and you are transported to the French countryside, an ancient monastery. Dark monks, dark goats, dark secrets. This grimoire is not for the faint of heart--full of dark spells with just a hint of fresh air, redolent with lavender and a spark of citrus. I can imagine I won't reach for this all the time, but it's certainly a niche worth experiencing.

Sprayed this on and my first thought was "uh oh" at the amount of cumin present. I like cumin a lot in both food and perfume but this is a particularly sweaty, stinky one and it dominates the scent alongside a zingy citrus that calls to mind the idea of squeezing a lemon into someone's unwashed armpit. Thankfully this doesn't last long and it completely transforms as it dries, what you're left with is not so much an old book as the name would suggest but an equally old chest or cabinet once filled with all sorts of alchemical supplies. It's been emptied out long ago with a whisper of the various raw herbs and resins and ingredients remaining behind, intermingled with a big, dry, beautiful cedar note. It's very nice if you can stick it out through the opening.

Finally got around to wearing my sample of Grimoire. This is right up my alley. The opening has a citrus smell that reminds me more of petit grain than it does of the listed bergamot. This citrus aspect is short lived, and is only on the fringes of the opening, as the lavender and basil are also present. In fact, I'm wondering if the basil mixed with the bergamot is what's making me think petit grain. As it dries down, it becomes more and more the tome of spells pages that the name implies. It actually smells very much like the pages of a book that has been stored with some nice incense. I actually like this fragrance a lot so far, based on my first wear. This is definitely bottle worthy in my "book." :-)

Smells like the middle ages. Cire Trudon should've purchased this composition from Anatole Lebreton because it fits perfectly into their aesthetic universe and IMHO it is far better than any of the perfumes they released. Love it more with each wear. I love frankincense and this is a fantastic and unique spin on that beloved note. This is not a catholic church. Grimoire uses the blue-grey base tones of incense, the minerality, but finishes it off on top with the earthy dust of a wizard’s workshop. SO GOOD. Definitely buying a full bottle of this. Incense meets herbal lavender masculine with my favorite kind of musky cumin-cigar-smoke note lurking underneath and into the drydown. One of my faves from AL.

The opening of this fragrance strongly resembles body odor; quite intense. Then it quickly transforms into something herbal. There's a bold lavender note, one that’s hard to miss due to its strength. According to the description, it’s inspired by the scent of a monastery garden, and after the heart notes, it shifts into frankincense which is well-executed and cohesive. However, the human-like elements in the opening and heart (mixed with the herbal notes) are quite difficult to handle. It’s an interesting composition, and the name, which means “spellbook” is fitting. But I don’t think I could wear it on a daily basis (: soooo weird. Tag(s): herbal, body odor, witch-doctor

Saw this on youtube. A certain trumpet playing reviewer really likes it and I went ahead and bought it. I don't really find it pleasant. If you're into weird artsy fartsy stuff sure knock yourself out. I usually like elemi but not here. I love ouds and all sorts of things but this just didn't do anything for me. Not at all mad at the reviewer btw. I've blind bought hundreds of niche fragrances and sometimes they're just a miss. As to the smell I get the reference to smelling like a book. I was expecting this but in the end it's not my vibe. Anyone in the US looking for one on the cheap hit me up.