When Alma Schindler, the daughter of a well known Austrian painter, married Gustav Mahler, the great composer and conductor and twenty years her elder, she entered a riotous world of temperament among the artistic elite of Europe. Her marriage with Mahler was not happy; she was too young and too elemental to understand his gloom-ridden intellectual nature and she called him ""my abstraction"". But she endured it until his death, when she had a flamboyant affair with a painter, then married the famous architect-Walter Gropius. Shortly after this marriage, she read some verses by Franz Werfel and realized that he was her man. She met Werfel a few years later, married him, and together they found refuge in America.... An unabashed account of a woman of undoubted attraction, little sensibility and considerable egotism, one may question whether those who will be attracted by the fame of the men with whom she associated may not also retreat from her lack of personal reticence.