Grimoire and every perfume mentioned here are ones I perceive in textures, atmospherics, and muted shades. I see them as much as I smell them.
A Grimoire is an ancient spell book like the Codex Gigas, spotted and dessicated with fragile dried out pages and a decayed leather cover. It’s infused with moldy dampness and earth after being long buried in a crypt or wrapped in oilcloth, protected within a pentagram or magic circle, and lost to time in a dark stone chamber. None of the Google images I saw represented to me the character and atmosphere of Anatole Lebreton’s Grimoire. I related more with the books’ surroundings and close-ups of old book covers.
This is my second wear of Grimoire, an incense, peppery, neutral dark green, smoky wood that has the same dry, warm quality as the brighter L’Air du Désert Marocain, which I loved wearing
in the heat of summer. Then one day, its spicy, nose-searing quality on my skin ultimately defeated me. If not for that, I would have a bottle. My skin boosts spices, so YMMV. Its sister, Au Cœur du Désert, doesn’t have that dry quality.
Looking at Grimoire’s notes in Fragrantica gives me little indication of how it smells. The accord bars are only slightly more revealing. It was Claire Vukcevic’s description of Grimoire’s dryness that made me look. There’s a peppery undernote beneath the neutral green, incensy opening. The bergamot and lavender don’t register as separate or distinct. This dry quality is something petitgrain often does for bergamot and other orange citrus notes, and not seeing it in the mix, I mistook the image of bergamot for lime in my original impression. Bergamot on its own doesn’t smell dry.
Someone asked about the cumin. In Grimoire, it is very subtle. I can’t single it out, though others might. Except for the incenses, a certain spicy/peppery backbone, cedar, and a hint of patchouli and moss, the other notes don’t stand out. They harmonize seamlessly like good backup singers. They add color, depth, and flourish to the central sound while muting their own brighter personalities. The effect is smoky, earthy, spicy, rooty, dusty (not powdery), with the texture of dark gray/brown dust motes. It’s an impressive blend.
Of the many excellent, incense-focused perfumes out there, Grimoire is neither cold, hollow, celestial, or religious like Unum Lavs and to a lesser extent Sauf Contre Bombarde 32. Its darkness is somewhat ancient, but it doesn’t take you to church at all. Unless it’s the unconsecrated, dusty crypt beneath the church that has a window or skylight, and long forgotten by the monks. It is lit through with light, but not the desert sun of LADDM. Unlike Encens Mythique d’Orient, Grimoire doesn’t affect me viscerally or emotionally. It’s not as comforting or as relaxing as LADDM. It’s more rational, intellectual, calm. I like that.
TL:Dr: Grimoire is to Goya’s Plague Hospital what L’Air du Désert Marocain is to J.M.W. Turner’s Slave Ship .
Mechanics: Moderate projection and sillage, very good longevity; the faintest bones of incense are still on me at least 16 hours later.
Availability: Grimoire is at Luckyscent, $110 for 50 ml — a very reasonable price, considering the quality of its composition and materials. I bought my sample there.
Claire V’s write-up also led me to sample Taklamakan, which is warmer and smells more ambery.
Other, fine incense-focused perfumes like the four Comme des Garçons Incense series are nice, but don’t match the depth or atmospherics of Grimoire or Sauf Contre Bombarde 32. I’ve only sampled Taklamakan once and in accords I think it’s closest to Duchaufour’s CdG’s. Zihr Ikon, recently touted in RedditRe/fragrance as a good, cheap, incense, isn’t qualified to sit at the table with any of these. I can’t wear it.
Aside from wanting to try L’Eau Scandaleuse, the energy of the other Lebreton perfumes, based on the accords and the more recent reviews in Fragrantica, don’t call to me as much.
The Perfume Baby 
