The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – An Iconic Writer Attempts Fresh Territory
The new book features protagonists seeking new beginnings, trying to break free from addictions or abusive marriages, only to witness hope devolve into violence. The author repeatedly invokes the phrase "new beginning", transforming it into deliberately jaded through its repetitions. Examples include "He aimed to start over" and "They opted for a clean break" recur in the narrative. Meanwhile, she appears to be undertaking her own fresh start, as this presents as a different type of work – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. But then it turns out to be filled with the familiar conflicts and approaches as past novels.
From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work
The writer started out as an creative who became a writer unintentionally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, transforming confessional female writing from abjection into defiance. She continued writing, but the three subsequent fascinating and rebarbative novels did not possess the power and directness that the correspondence format imparted to the tone of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a maverick maker who had become a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was significant attention on property transactions. It makes sense that she presently aims to explore fresh narrative sources, directing her gaze to the experiences of others, at a moment when she asserts that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative unnecessary.
Multiple Generations, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, covering three generations – all unable to escape their backgrounds. We encounter the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, relocating from the urban environment 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 Paul. And there is the narrative of a homicide of one directionless individual by another in a community largely deserted by liberal ideals only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in a remote part of Minnesota.
From my perspective as a reader drawn to refined literature of the kind Kraus herself often avoids, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the opening part.
Being a reader who favors crafted language of the style that Kraus usually avoids, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the initial part. There is a new quality of attentiveness that accommodates small details, like the bucket that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, assisted by her beloved father. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she says; "a lovely toy", he responds, "the nuanced interpretations of terms rolling around in their mouths like sweet treats". The author narrates the tale of Emma with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not entirely her own."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this different style could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she resents the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have derived from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disjunction, to the unpolished style she has in common with her inspiration Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her earlier works reasserts itself in the middle section. Catt Greene is attempting to do up 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, unable to aid her husband control his drinking. She experiences powerlessness as her spouse moves between low-resource employment as an recovery specialist in a world propelled by the rage and anxiety that drives a political win. A significant portion discusses about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "author" to "property owner" on a reference site. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she may grasp something about an the nation that her social media opponents would be unable to grasp, would not even see".
The Homicide Account
Thus we arrive to the actual killing – and the referenced day passed by the victim with the perpetrator and his companions. Kraus has great source material, and details moment by moment what occurred as the victim Brandon came to visit Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He was hoping for sex but appears congenially to have passed the day alongside her friends, wandering about having his vehicle repaired and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt gets obsessed by the narrative, and I was fascinated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards accurate chronicling and daring boundary-pushing clash in this segment. Yet I wished her to explore more thoroughly her personal fixations here. The most interesting character is the character Brittney, who comes alive partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl going off the rails in a struggling, neglected community. The author informs us that Catt converses with Brittney in prison, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels strangely incomplete, to the degree that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par