The Four Spent the Day Together centers on characters pursuing new beginnings, struggling to escape addictions or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into violence. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "clean slate", transforming it into deliberately jaded through recurring use. Sentences like "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the story. And yet, she appears to be undertaking her personal new beginning, as this appears a new kind of book – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. Yet it reveals itself to be filled with the same dilemmas and approaches as her previous works.
From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus started out as an artist who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, which was composed of letters to an unreceptive lover, transforming intimate women's literature from self-debasement into defiance. She continued writing, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels lacked the shock and immediacy that the letter form infused into the voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a major property owner, so there was significant attention on real estate deals. It is logical that she currently desires to explore fresh narrative sources, directing her gaze to external narratives, at a time when she asserts that Trumpian politics makes confessional writing obsolete.
Three Generations, Collective Unavoidable Background
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning three generations – none able to break free from their pasts. The book includes the narrative about Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, moving from the urban environment to the Connecticut countryside. Additionally the narrative of the author, in the guise of a figure named Catt Greene, confronting the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a community largely deserted by liberal ideals only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.
For this reader attracted to honed writing of the type the author herself often avoids, I was seduced by the narrative style of the first section.
Being a reader who appreciates crafted language of the style that Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the opening segment. There is a fresh level of observation that makes room for small details, like the pail that the youthful Catt pries out of frozen water at the beginning of the narrative, helped by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a great plaything", he replies, "the elliptical meanings of words rolling around in their mouths like piece candy". The author narrates the tale of Emma with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was destined to be disappointed when I wished this new voice could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the satisfaction readers like me have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the unpolished style she has in common with her hero writer Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her earlier works comes back in the second segment. The protagonist is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while traveling between the Midwest and the West Coast, failing to help her husband control his drinking. She feels helpless as Paul transitions between low-resource employment as an recovery specialist in a world propelled by the hostility and dread that underpins Trump's victory. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt being cancelled on a platform, her listed profession modified from "novelist" to "real estate holder" on Wikipedia. She still gives the impression to invest excessive emotion about this. On one occasion she says that she's researching the homicide so that before departing the state, "she might be able to learn something about an America that her Twitter detractors would not understand, would not even perceive".
The Killing Story
So then we come to the murder itself – and the titular day spent by the deceased with the killer and his companions. The author possesses great source material, and reconstructs step by step what happened when the victim Brandon came to visit Brittney after meeting her on an app where she offered adult photos. He sought a sexual encounter but seems amiably to have occupied the day alongside her friends, wandering about having his vehicle repaired and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by Brittney's partner Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for fits of anger.
Fascination and Incompletion
Catt develops an obsession by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and audacious rule-breaking wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to delve deeper into her individual preoccupations here. The compelling persona is Brittney herself, who comes alive in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. The author informs us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. This entire part feels strangely incomplete, to the degree that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par
