The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Ventures Into New Ground
This latest work is populated with characters pursuing new beginnings, attempting to leave behind addictions or abusive marriages, only to witness hope devolve into aggression. The author often employs the phrase "new beginning", rendering it intentionally weary through recurring use. Phrases such as "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They decided to make a fresh start" appear throughout the text. And yet, the author herself appears to be undertaking her individual reinvention, because this presents as a novel form of writing – observational, genuinely novelistic. But then it reveals itself to be packed with the recurring issues and aesthetics as earlier books.
From Accidental Writer to Cult Classic
The writer started out as an creative who transitioned to writing unintentionally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, made up of missives to a distant beloved, transforming confessional female writing from humiliation into defiance. She persisted as a writer, but the following three engaging and challenging novels missed the shock and immediacy that the letter form imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a maverick maker who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was significant attention on housing investments. It makes sense that she now wants to experiment with different types of content, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a period in which she claims that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative redundant.
Three Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, spanning three generations – none able to break free from their histories. There is the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, representations of the author's parents, relocating from the Bronx to a pastoral setting. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband Paul. The third thread involves the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a community mostly forsaken by progressive politics only 80 miles from Catt's rural residence in a remote part of Minnesota.
As a reader drawn to honed writing of the sort Kraus often avoids, I was captivated by the literary tone of the opening part.
Being a reader who favors precise prose of the style that the author often disregards, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the opening segment. It possesses a fresh level of observation that allows space for trivial aspects, like the bucket that the young Catt frees from the ice at the opening of the book, aided by her adored dad. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she exclaims; "a nice toy", he responds, "the elliptical meanings of words circulating in their speech like hard candy". Kraus writes the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not hers, exactly."
Frustration and Disruption
I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this fresh tone could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she resents the enjoyment readers like me have gotten from I Love Dick; she's committed to fragmentation, to the unpolished style she echoes from her idol author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books comes back in the central part. Catt is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while shuttling between Minnesota and LA, unable to aid Paul manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as her spouse cycles through low-resource employment as an recovery specialist in a environment fueled by the anger and fear that drives a political win. A significant portion discusses about the protagonist facing cancellation on a platform, her listed profession modified from "author" to "landlord" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to be overly concerned about this. In a moment she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she might be able to learn something about an the United States that her Twitter detractors would be unable to grasp, would overlook entirely".
The Murder Narrative
So then we come to the homicide in question – and the referenced day passed by the deceased with the murderer and his friends. Kraus has compelling foundational content, and details moment by moment what transpired when Brandon came to visit Brittney after meeting her on an app where she sold sex pictures. He anticipated intimacy but seems affably to have spent the day alongside her friends, loitering having his vehicle repaired and covering the cost of food and substances, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's partner a man named Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for aggressive outbursts.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
Catt develops an obsession by the narrative, and I was intrigued by the way that her twin drives towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing clash in this segment. But I'd have liked her to go further into her individual preoccupations here. The compelling persona is the character Brittney, who gains dimension in part due to Catt seeing herself in her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual derailing in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The whole section feels strangely incomplete, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par