The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with individuals pursuing fresh starts, struggling to escape addictions or toxic relationships, only to witness hope devolve into aggression. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", transforming it into willfully cynical through its repetitions. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the narrative. Meanwhile, the author herself seems to be making her personal new beginning, as this seems a new kind of book – observational, authentically narrative. But then it turns out to be laden with the familiar conflicts and aesthetics as her previous works.
From Unplanned Author to Cult Classic
Kraus started out as an visual artist who became a writer almost accidentally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, elevating confessional female writing from self-debasement into assassination. She continued writing, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels missed the impact and rawness that the correspondence format infused into the voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her role as a maverick maker who had evolved into a major property owner, so there was much discussion on housing investments. It makes sense that she now wants to explore fresh narrative sources, directing her gaze to the experiences of others, at a time when she claims that current political era makes confessional writing unnecessary.
Three Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, encompassing several time periods – all unable to escape their histories. There is the narrative about Emma and Jasper, based on Kraus's parents, relocating from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. Additionally the narrative of the author, in the guise of Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a locality long abandoned by progressive politics only a short distance from the protagonist's home in the Minnesota countryside.
As a reader attracted to refined literature of the sort Kraus herself typically rejects, I was seduced by the narrative style of the initial segment.
Being a reader who favors precise prose of the style that the author often disregards, I was captivated by the literary tone of the first section. It exhibits a new quality of attentiveness that makes room for minutiae, like the container that the protagonist as a child frees from the ice at the start of the story, helped by her beloved father. "I found an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he responds, "the elliptical meanings of words tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". She tells Emma's narrative with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not hers, exactly."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was destined to be disappointed when I expected this different style could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she resents the enjoyment those who appreciate polished prose have gotten from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she shares with her idol author Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her earlier works returns in the middle section. The protagonist is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in the city's most challenging districts while shuttling between two different states, unsuccessful in assisting Paul control his drinking. She experiences powerlessness as Paul moves between underfunded jobs as an addiction therapist in a society fueled by the rage and anxiety that underpins Trump's victory. A significant portion discusses about Catt being cancelled on a platform, her occupation changed from "writer" to "property owner" on a reference site. She still gives the impression to be overly concerned 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 not understand, would overlook entirely".
The Homicide Account
Thus we arrive to the murder itself – and the referenced day experienced by the murdered individual with the killer and his friends. Kraus utilizes excellent raw material, and reconstructs step by step what occurred as the victim Brandon came to see Brittney after connecting via an application where she offered adult photos. He was hoping for sex but seems affably to have spent the day with her companions, mooching around getting his car mended and paying for snacks and drugs, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's partner Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has frequently been hospitalised for violent rage.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt gets obsessed by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that her twin drives towards accurate chronicling and audacious rule-breaking wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to explore more thoroughly her individual preoccupations here. The standout figure is Brittney herself, who comes alive partly through the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl going off the rails in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. This entire part feels strangely incomplete, to the point that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par
