The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Attempts New Ground
The new book centers on individuals chasing after fresh starts, attempting to leave behind addictions or abusive marriages, only to see hope turn into conflict. Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "clean slate", rendering it willfully cynical through recurring use. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the text. At the same time, Kraus herself is embarking on her own fresh start, since this appears a new kind of book – documentarian, genuinely novelistic. However it turns out to be packed with the recurring issues and styles as past novels.
From Chance Novelist to Iconic Work
The writer started out as an visual artist who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, made up of missives to a distant beloved, elevating intimate women's literature from humiliation into defiance. She kept producing books, but the three subsequent engaging and challenging novels lacked the impact and rawness that the correspondence format brought to the voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a major property owner, so there was much discussion on property transactions. It is logical that she now wants to explore fresh narrative sources, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a moment when she states that contemporary political climate turns intimate literature unnecessary.
Multiple Generations, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, covering multiple eras – each trapped by their histories. There is the narrative about Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, transitioning from the New York borough to the Connecticut countryside. There is the account of Kraus, in the character of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her addict husband Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a community largely deserted by forward-thinking policies only a brief drive from Catt's rural residence in rural Minnesota.
For this reader attracted to polished prose of the type Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was captivated by the literary tone of the initial segment.
As a reader who favors precise prose of the style that Kraus usually avoids, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the initial part. There is a novel degree of detail that accommodates trivial aspects, like the pail that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the opening of the book, assisted by her cherished parent. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she declares; "a lovely toy", he answers, "the nuanced interpretations of terms rolling around in their mouths like piece candy". Kraus writes the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was fated to feel let down when I hoped this different style could continue through the novel. Kraus says here that she dislikes the satisfaction audiences such as myself have taken from I Love Dick; she's devoted to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she has in common with her hero Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her earlier works comes back in the central part. Catt is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between the Midwest and the West Coast, failing to help Paul curb his addiction. She is overwhelmed as Paul transitions between underfunded jobs as an recovery specialist in a environment propelled by the hostility and dread that underpins Trump's victory. Multiple pages are devoted about the protagonist facing cancellation on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "novelist" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. She still gives the impression to invest excessive emotion about this. On one occasion she remarks that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her social media opponents would fail to comprehend, would not even perceive".
The Homicide Account
Then we reach to the actual killing – and the referenced day passed by the murdered individual with the killer and his friends. Kraus utilizes great source material, and details moment by moment what happened when a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He sought a sexual encounter but appears congenially to have passed the day in the company of her associates, mooching around getting his car mended and funding treats and narcotics, before being murdered by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has often been institutionalized for fits of anger.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt develops an obsession by the account, and I found myself captivated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and audacious rule-breaking wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to go further into her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who becomes vivid in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. The author informs us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. This entire part feels curiously unresolved, to the degree that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par
