The Four Spent the Day Together by author Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Explores Something New
The new book centers on characters pursuing fresh starts, trying to break free from drugs or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into conflict. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", transforming it into intentionally weary through recurring use. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" appear throughout the narrative. And yet, the author herself seems to be making her individual reinvention, because this appears a new kind of book – observational, authentically narrative. But then it proves to be packed with the recurring issues and styles as earlier books.
From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus started out as an visual artist who transitioned to writing somewhat by chance with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, which was composed of letters to an unreceptive lover, elevating confessional female writing from self-debasement into defiance. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent engaging and challenging novels lacked the power and directness that the correspondence format imparted to the tone of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her position as a maverick maker who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was significant attention on property transactions. It follows that she currently desires to try out fresh narrative sources, looking outwards to external narratives, at a time when she states that Trumpian politics turns intimate literature redundant.
Several Eras, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, encompassing three generations – none able to break free from their backgrounds. There is the story of Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, transitioning from the Bronx to rural Connecticut. Then there is the account of Kraus, in the persona of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse Paul. Finally the narrative of a homicide of one lost young man by another in a locality mostly forsaken by forward-thinking policies only a brief drive from Catt's rural residence in a remote part of Minnesota.
For this reader drawn to honed writing of the kind Kraus often avoids, I was captivated by the narrative style of the opening part.
As someone who reads drawn to crafted language of the variety that Kraus herself often disregards, I was seduced by the literary tone of the opening segment. It exhibits a fresh level of observation that accommodates minutiae, like the bucket that the protagonist as a child dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, helped by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a great plaything", he responds, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". She tells the tale of Emma with interest and closeness. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not entirely her own."
Frustration and Disruption
I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this different style could continue through the novel. The author states here that she is annoyed by the pleasure readers like me have derived from I Love Dick; she's committed to fragmentation, to the untidy aesthetics she has in common with her hero Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her earlier works comes back in the second segment. The protagonist is working on refurbishing 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between two different states, unable to aid her husband curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as Paul moves between underfunded jobs as an addiction therapist in a world fueled by the anger and fear that drives a political win. There are several pages about Catt being cancelled on a platform, her listed profession modified from "author" to "landlord" on a reference site. She still gives the impression to invest excessive emotion about this. On one occasion she remarks that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she may grasp something about an America that her online critics would be unable to grasp, would overlook entirely".
The Homicide Account
So then we come to the murder itself – and the eponymous day spent by the victim with the killer and his companions. The author possesses compelling foundational content, and details moment by moment what transpired when Brandon came to meet Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but seems affably to have spent the day with her companions, loitering getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by Brittney's partner Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for violent rage.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt gets obsessed by the story, and I found myself captivated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards responsible documentation and reckless transgression clash in this segment. Yet I wished her to explore more thoroughly her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who becomes vivid in part due to Catt seeing herself in her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in prison, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The complete segment feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par