The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – An Iconic Writer Attempts Something New
The new book features protagonists chasing after clean slates, struggling to escape addictions or toxic relationships, only to witness hope devolve into conflict. Kraus often employs the phrase "fresh start", rendering it willfully cynical through constant reiteration. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the narrative. At the same time, she appears to be undertaking her personal new beginning, because this appears a novel form of writing – observational, genuinely novelistic. Yet it proves to be laden with the recurring issues and styles as past novels.
From Unplanned Author to Renowned Book
The writer started out as an artist who entered the literary world unintentionally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as epistles to an unresponsive love interest, converting intimate women's literature from self-debasement into assassination. She continued writing, but the next trio of engaging and challenging novels did not possess the power and directness that the epistolary style brought to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was significant attention on real estate deals. It makes sense that she currently desires to try out new kinds of material, directing her gaze to other people's stories, at a moment when she asserts that contemporary political climate turns intimate literature unnecessary.
Multiple Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, covering multiple eras – none able to break free from their backgrounds. The book includes the story of Emma and Jasper, based on her own mother and father, moving from the Bronx to a pastoral setting. Additionally the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of a figure named Catt Greene, reckoning with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. Finally the story of the murder of one troubled youth by another in a town mostly forsaken by liberal ideals only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.
For this reader drawn to polished prose of the type Kraus herself often avoids, I was enchanted by the narrative style of the opening part.
Being a reader who favors precise prose of the kind that the author often disregards, I was captivated by the literary tone of the opening segment. There is a novel degree of detail that accommodates small details, like the pail that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the start of the story, assisted by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he replies, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". She tells the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not entirely her own."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this different style could last out the book. Kraus says here that she dislikes the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she shares with her hero writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her earlier works reasserts itself in the central part. Catt is working on refurbishing three dozen dilapidated units in the city's most challenging districts while moving between Minnesota and LA, failing to help her husband control his drinking. She experiences powerlessness as Paul cycles through underfunded jobs as an substance abuse counselor in a environment fueled by the hostility and dread that underpins an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "author" to "real estate holder" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. In a moment she says 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 social media opponents would not understand, would overlook entirely".
The Murder Narrative
So then we come to the murder itself – and the eponymous day experienced by the deceased with the killer and his friends. Kraus utilizes compelling foundational content, and knows hour by hour what happened when Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she sold sex pictures. He was hoping for sex but seems affably to have spent the day with her companions, loitering having his vehicle repaired and paying for snacks and drugs, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's partner Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for aggressive outbursts.
Fascination and Incompletion
The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was fascinated 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 explore more thoroughly her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who becomes vivid partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels curiously unresolved, to the point that her narrative ends almost mid-par