The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Renowned Writer Explores Something New
The new book features characters seeking fresh starts, struggling to escape substance abuse or harmful partnerships, only to find hope curdling into conflict. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "fresh start", transforming it into intentionally weary through recurring use. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the narrative. Meanwhile, the author herself is embarking on her own fresh start, since this seems a novel form of writing – documentarian, genuinely novelistic. Yet it turns out to be filled with the familiar conflicts and aesthetics as earlier books.
From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus began as an artist who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, structured as epistles to an unresponsive love interest, converting personal female narrative from abjection into rebellion. She persisted as a writer, but the next trio of engaging and challenging novels missed the shock and immediacy that the correspondence format imparted to the tone of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a renegade artist who had become a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on property transactions. It is logical that she now wants to explore new kinds of material, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a period in which she states that current political era makes confessional writing obsolete.
Several Eras, Collective Unavoidable Background
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, covering multiple eras – all unable to escape their pasts. We encounter the narrative about Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, relocating from the New York borough to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of Catt Greene, reckoning with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse a man named Paul. And there is the narrative of a homicide of one directionless individual by another in a locality long abandoned by forward-thinking policies only a brief drive from Catt's cottage in a remote part of Minnesota.
From my perspective as a reader attracted to polished prose of the kind the author herself tends to eschew, I was seduced by the literary tone of the first section.
Being a reader who favors crafted language of the variety that the author often disregards, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the initial part. There is a fresh level of observation that makes room for small details, like the bucket that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, aided by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a nice toy", he answers, "the nuanced interpretations of terms circulating in their speech like piece candy". She tells Emma's narrative with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not precisely her dream."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this fresh tone could last out the book. Kraus says here that she is annoyed by the enjoyment audiences such as myself have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she echoes from her inspiration Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books returns in the middle section. The protagonist is working on refurbishing multiple decrepit residences in the city's most challenging districts while shuttling between two different states, unsuccessful in assisting Paul curb his addiction. She is overwhelmed as Paul transitions between poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a environment propelled by the hostility and dread that underpins a political win. There are several pages about the protagonist facing cancellation on Twitter, her occupation changed from "writer" to "landlord" on Wikipedia. She still gives the impression to be overly concerned about this. On one occasion she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she may grasp something about an the United States that her online critics would not understand, would not even perceive".
The Homicide Account
Thus we arrive to the murder itself – and the referenced day experienced by the murdered individual with the murderer and his companions. Kraus utilizes excellent raw material, and reconstructs step by step what transpired when the victim Brandon came to meet Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He was hoping for sex but appears congenially to have passed the day in the company of her associates, mooching around fixing his automobile and covering the cost of food and substances, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's partner Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has often been institutionalized for violent rage.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that her twin drives towards accurate chronicling and reckless transgression wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her own obsessions here. The standout figure is Brittney herself, who gains dimension partially because of Catt's identification with her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus tells us that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels curiously unresolved, to the degree that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par