The Four Spent the Day Together from author Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Ventures Into Something New

The new book is populated with individuals chasing after fresh starts, trying to break free from substance abuse or abusive marriages, only to see hope turn into violence. Kraus often employs the phrase "clean slate", making it willfully cynical through its repetitions. Sentences like "He aimed to start over" and "They decided to make a fresh start" appear throughout the narrative. And yet, the author herself seems to be making her personal new beginning, since this appears a different type of work – observational, truly literary. However it reveals itself to be filled with the same dilemmas and aesthetics as earlier books.

From Accidental Writer to Renowned Book

Chris Kraus was originally an artist who transitioned to writing somewhat by chance with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, elevating personal female narrative from humiliation into assassination. She continued writing, but the following three fascinating and rebarbative novels missed the impact and rawness that the letter form brought to the tone of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her role as a nonconformist creator who had become a extensive real estate holder, so there was significant attention on property transactions. It makes sense that she now wants to experiment with fresh narrative sources, looking outwards to external narratives, at a time when she states that current political era makes confessional writing unnecessary.

Multiple Generations, Collective Unavoidable Background

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, spanning three generations – none able to break free from their backgrounds. We encounter the story of characters Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, moving from the New York borough to the Connecticut countryside. There is the narrative of the author, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the belated success of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a community mostly forsaken by liberal ideals only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in rural Minnesota.

As a reader drawn to honed writing of the kind the author herself often avoids, I was enchanted by the novelistic voice of the opening part.

As someone who reads drawn to precise prose of the kind that Kraus often disregards, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the first section. It exhibits a fresh level of observation that accommodates minutiae, like the container that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the start of the story, aided by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a lovely toy", he answers, "the ambiguous meanings of language circulating in their speech like sweet treats". She tells the tale of Emma with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not hers, exactly."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this new voice could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she dislikes the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have derived from I Love Dick; she's devoted to fragmentation, to the untidy aesthetics she echoes from her idol writer Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her earlier works comes back in the middle section. The protagonist is attempting to do up multiple decrepit residences in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between two different states, unable to aid Paul control his drinking. She feels helpless as her spouse cycles through poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a environment propelled by the anger and fear that powers an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about the protagonist facing cancellation on social media, her professional designation altered from "author" to "property owner" on Wikipedia. Kraus still seems to be overly concerned about this. On one occasion she says that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she may grasp something about an the nation that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would not even see".

The Homicide Account

Thus we arrive to the actual killing – and the titular day spent by the deceased with the killer and his friends. The author possesses excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what happened when a man named Brandon came to visit Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she offered adult photos. He was hoping for sex but seems amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, wandering about fixing his automobile and paying for snacks and drugs, before being shot by Brittney's partner a man named Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has often been institutionalized for fits of anger.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

Catt gets obsessed by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and audacious rule-breaking tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to go further into her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney herself, who gains dimension in part due to Catt seeing herself in her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual spiraling out of control in a troubled, forgotten town. The author informs us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. This entire part feels strangely incomplete, to the extent that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par