The Four Spent the Day Together features protagonists pursuing clean slates, struggling to escape addictions or toxic relationships, only to see hope turn into conflict. Chris Kraus often employs the phrase "fresh start", transforming it into deliberately jaded through constant reiteration. Phrases such as "He aimed to start over" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the narrative. At the same time, the author herself seems to be making her own fresh start, since this seems a new kind of book – observational, genuinely novelistic. Yet it reveals itself to be filled with the familiar conflicts and styles as her previous works.
From Chance Novelist to Iconic Work
Kraus was originally an artist who transitioned to writing unintentionally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, which was composed of missives to a distant beloved, elevating confessional female writing from self-debasement into rebellion. She continued writing, but the following three engaging and challenging novels lacked the shock and immediacy that the correspondence format imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a maverick maker who had turned into a extensive real estate holder, so there was significant attention on property transactions. It makes sense that she presently aims to experiment with different types of content, looking outwards to the experiences of others, at a period in which she states that current political era renders personal narrative unnecessary.
Three Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning multiple eras – each trapped by their backgrounds. The book includes the story of a couple named Emma and Jasper, representations of the author's parents, moving from the Bronx to rural Connecticut. Then there is the account of Kraus, in the persona of protagonist Catt Greene, confronting the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse a man named Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a town largely deserted by liberal ideals only a short distance from Catt's rural residence in rural Minnesota.
As a reader attracted to refined literature of the kind Kraus typically rejects, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the opening part.
As someone who reads who favors precise prose of the style that Kraus herself usually avoids, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the first section. It exhibits a fresh level of observation that makes room for trivial aspects, like the bucket that the protagonist as a child frees from the ice at the start of the story, aided by her adored dad. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he responds, "the nuanced interpretations of terms circulating in their speech like sweet treats". She tells Emma's story with interest and closeness. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – 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. Kraus notes here that she dislikes the pleasure audiences such as myself have gotten from I Love Dick; she's committed to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she shares with her hero author Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her past books comes back in the second segment. The protagonist is trying to renovate three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting Paul curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as her spouse moves between poorly supported positions as an recovery specialist in a world propelled by the hostility and dread that powers an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her professional designation altered from "author" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. In a moment she states that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she might be able to learn something about an the United States that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would not even see".
The Homicide Account
Thus we arrive to the murder itself – and the referenced day experienced by the victim with the perpetrator and his associates. The author possesses great source material, and details moment by moment what occurred as a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He was hoping for sex but seems affably to have spent the day alongside her friends, mooching around getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has often been institutionalized for aggressive outbursts.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that her twin drives towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to delve deeper into her own obsessions here. The most interesting character is Brittney herself, who gains dimension partially because of Catt seeing herself in her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she fails to enact these dialogues. This entire part feels strangely incomplete, to the extent that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par
