The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – An Iconic Writer Explores New Ground

This latest work is populated with protagonists chasing after new beginnings, attempting to leave behind substance abuse or toxic relationships, only to find hope curdling into violence. Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "clean slate", transforming it into deliberately jaded through recurring use. Phrases such as "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They decided to make a fresh start" appear throughout the story. Meanwhile, Kraus herself appears to be undertaking her personal new beginning, because this presents as a different type of work – documentarian, genuinely novelistic. But then it reveals itself to be laden with the familiar conflicts and aesthetics as past novels.

From Accidental Writer to Renowned Book

The writer was originally an visual artist who transitioned to writing somewhat by chance with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, made up of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, transforming intimate women's literature from self-debasement into assassination. She continued writing, but the following three engaging and challenging novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the letter form imparted to the voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a maverick maker who had evolved into a major property owner, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It makes sense that she presently aims to experiment with fresh narrative sources, looking outwards to the experiences of others, at a time when she claims that current political era turns intimate literature unnecessary.

Several Eras, Collective Unavoidable Background

The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, spanning several time periods – all unable to escape their pasts. We encounter the narrative about characters Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, transitioning from the urban environment to rural Connecticut. There is the account of Kraus, in the persona of Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. The third thread involves the narrative of a homicide of one lost young man by another in a locality long abandoned by progressive politics only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in rural Minnesota.

From my perspective as a reader drawn to honed writing of the kind the author herself typically rejects, I was seduced by the literary tone of the initial segment.

Being a reader drawn to precise prose of the style that the author usually avoids, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the opening segment. There is a new quality of attentiveness that makes room for small details, like the bucket that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the beginning of the narrative, helped by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he responds, "the nuanced interpretations of terms circulating in their speech like sweet treats". She tells Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not precisely her dream."

Letdown and Fragmentation

I was fated to feel let down when I expected this new voice could last out the book. The author states here that she is annoyed by the satisfaction readers like me have taken from I Love Dick; she's devoted to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her idol writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her previous novels comes back in the middle section. Catt is attempting to do up multiple decrepit residences in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while shuttling between Minnesota and LA, failing to help her husband control his drinking. She is overwhelmed as Paul moves between underfunded jobs as an addiction therapist in a world propelled by the hostility and dread that powers Trump's victory. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on social media, her occupation changed from "novelist" to "property owner" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. At one point she says that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she may grasp something about an the United States that her Twitter detractors would be unable to grasp, would overlook entirely".

The Homicide Account

So then we come to the actual killing – and the referenced day experienced by the victim with the murderer and his associates. The author possesses great source material, and knows hour by hour what happened when a man named Brandon came to visit Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day alongside her friends, loitering fixing his automobile and paying for snacks and drugs, before being murdered by her romantic interest Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

The protagonist becomes fixated by the narrative, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and reckless transgression clash in this segment. However, I would have preferred her to explore more thoroughly her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is Brittney, who comes alive partially because of Catt's identification with her – another bright, bullied girl going off the rails in a difficult, overlooked locality. The author informs us that Catt converses with Brittney in jail, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. This entire part feels strangely incomplete, to the point that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par