The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with characters seeking fresh starts, trying to break free from drugs or toxic relationships, only to see hope turn into aggression. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", rendering it deliberately jaded through constant reiteration. Sentences like "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They opted for a clean break" recur in the narrative. And yet, the author herself is embarking on her individual reinvention, since this seems a new kind of book – observational, genuinely novelistic. However it turns out to be laden with the same dilemmas and approaches as her previous works.
From Chance Novelist to Renowned Book
Kraus started out as an artist who entered the literary world almost accidentally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, converting personal female narrative from abjection into rebellion. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the correspondence format brought to the tone of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a maverick maker who had turned into a major property owner, so there was much discussion on real estate deals. It is logical that she presently aims to experiment with new kinds of material, directing her gaze to external narratives, at a period in which she states that Trumpian politics makes confessional writing unnecessary.
Multiple Generations, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, covering multiple eras – none able to break free from their histories. We encounter the narrative about Emma and Jasper, representations of her own mother and father, moving from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. There is the story of Kraus herself, in the guise of protagonist Catt Greene, confronting the belated success of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction her husband Paul. The third thread involves the story of the murder of one lost young man by another in a community long abandoned by forward-thinking policies only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.
As a reader fond of polished prose of the type Kraus often avoids, I was seduced by the literary tone of the first section.
As someone who reads drawn to crafted language of the variety that Kraus often disregards, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the initial part. There is a new quality of attentiveness that accommodates small details, like the bucket that the protagonist as a child frees from the ice at the beginning of the narrative, assisted by her adored dad. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she says; "a great plaything", he responds, "the nuanced interpretations of terms rolling around in their mouths like sweet treats". Kraus writes the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "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 fresh tone could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she dislikes the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her inspiration Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books reasserts itself in the central part. Catt is trying to renovate 36 run-down apartments in the city's most challenging districts while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, failing to help Paul control his drinking. She is overwhelmed as Paul moves between poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a world fueled by the hostility and dread that underpins Trump's victory. There are several pages about Catt's social media ostracism on Twitter, her occupation changed from "novelist" to "property owner" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. In a moment she remarks that she's looking into the killing so that before exiting the region, "she may grasp something about an the United States that her social media opponents would fail to comprehend, would not even perceive".
The Homicide Account
Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the eponymous day passed by the victim with the murderer and his friends. The author possesses excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what occurred as a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He was hoping for sex but seems amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, mooching around getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by her romantic interest Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for fits of anger.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt develops an obsession by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to explore more thoroughly her own obsessions here. The most interesting character is the character Brittney, who comes alive partly through 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 omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par
