Ranging over a century of intimate foibles and world events, "Eating of the Forbidden Fruit" is a lighthearted, firsthand account by an unwitting victim of the seductive perils of our time. The action revolves around Albrecht, a tradition-bound Austrian nobleman, and those who cause him woe: his mother Istenne, whose idealized antics scandalized Europe decades ago; his daughter, Princess Stephanie, whose worldly mischief is creating no less of a contemporary stir; and his cousin, the narrator, whose Americanized ways offend every tenet of Albrecht's existence. Underlying the action is Albrecht's conviction that humanity's unbridled ways can still have the same incalculable consequences in our day as the loss of Paradise by Adam and Eve. Whether set in a dilapidated ch teau at the foot of the Pyrenees, in a burgundy-red studio on Manhattan's Upper East Side, or at an ocean-side cottage in Laguna Beach, "Eating of the Forbidden Fruit" carries a special message for those seeking to maximize their share of pleasures in life. Some names and details in this firsthand account have been changed for reasons of privacy; other details have been adjusted to tell the story in a limited space. The resulting tableau nevertheless reflects the essence of what took place. "Kolowrat's combination of European and American sensibilities speaks in a frank voice to audiences on both sides of the Atlantic." - Alice Pistkova, Prague Post "A unique page-turner." - Stephen Birmingham, Author "Our Crowd" Part One: The Perfect Universe Let me start by introducing my much older cousin, a peculiar sort, you may well think, as I once did. Secluded in his modest castle at the foot of the Tyrolean Alps, this courtly, silver-haired gentleman is fervently trying to save the universe. He labors endless hours, filling lined yellow sheets with penciled numbers, sheet after sheet after sheet. Albrecht is his name, and though still of reasonably sound body and mind, he claims to have been assigned this task by God. There isn't much time, according to Albrecht's calculations. Humanity's wasteful, self-indulgent ways are threatening the firmament - its myriad stars and planets and moons clustered in uncounted constellations and galaxies. Albrecht believes he is about to prove what he has suspected since his youth: that the world's excessive consumption of electricity for frivolous goals is creating too many used up, dead electrons. Accumulating in unseen vast piles, these dead electrons have already slowed the spin of the earth in measurable ways, or so his figures indicate, and eventually could disrupt the harmonious paths of even the most distant celestial spheres. It is this irreversible universal chaos that my fatherly cousin is striving to prevent. Albrecht is not out to save the human race. He gave up on that years ago and regards the prosperous masses of the industrialized world with a strained tolerance. Especially those overfed tourists from neighboring Bavaria who park their ostentatious cars just outside the open gates of his Schloss and have no qualms about wandering in. Traipsing around Albrecht's castle as if it were a public monument, they point their emblem-festooned walking sticks at architectural details here and there, even at the windows beyond which my cousin is grappling with his sacred task. How plainly these people exemplify the corruption by Lucifer of God's greatest handiwork, Albrecht thinks; how obviously hell bent on destroying themselves they are by perpetuating in an infinite variety of ways the sin of Adam and Eve and wantonly devising still more pleasurable ways Albrecht isn't about to make any effort to redeem them from their fate, even if he could, because they have only themselves to blame.As for himself, he isn't worried. In any terminal disaster on earth there would be pockets of survivors, made up of those deserving God's grace for having led dutiful lives.