🔗 Share this article

The Four Spent the Day Together centers on characters pursuing clean slates, attempting to leave behind drugs or harmful partnerships, only to find hope curdling into aggression. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "new beginning", rendering it intentionally weary through constant reiteration. Sentences like "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They opted for a clean break" appear throughout the text. And yet, Kraus herself seems to be making her individual reinvention, as this presents as a novel form of writing – fact-based, truly literary. But then it proves to be laden with the recurring issues and styles as her previous works.

From Unplanned Author to Cult Classic

Kraus began as an visual artist who entered the literary world unintentionally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, made up of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, converting confessional female writing from humiliation into rebellion. She continued writing, but the following three compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the power and directness that the letter form infused into the narrative voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her role as a nonconformist creator who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was significant attention on real estate deals. It makes sense that she presently aims to experiment with different types of content, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a period in which she claims that Trumpian politics makes confessional writing redundant.

Several Eras, Shared Inescapable History

The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, spanning several time periods – all unable to escape their backgrounds. The book includes the story of characters Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, transitioning from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. Additionally the narrative of the author, in the persona of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the belated success of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her addict husband her husband Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one troubled youth by another in a town largely deserted by progressive politics only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in a remote part of Minnesota.

For this reader fond of honed writing of the type the author herself typically rejects, I was seduced by the narrative style of the initial segment.

As a reader who appreciates crafted language of the kind that Kraus herself usually avoids, I was captivated by the storytelling approach of the initial part. It exhibits a new quality of attentiveness that allows space for small details, like the pail that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the beginning of the narrative, aided by her cherished parent. "I found an ice toy!" she says; "a nice toy", he answers, "the elliptical meanings of words circulating in their speech like sweet treats". The author narrates Emma's story with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not hers, exactly."

Letdown and Fragmentation

I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this different style could continue through the novel. Kraus says here that she dislikes the pleasure audiences such as myself have taken from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disjunction, to the unpolished style she has in common with her hero writer Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books comes back in the second segment. Catt Greene is trying to renovate three dozen dilapidated units in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while shuttling between Minnesota and LA, unsuccessful in assisting Paul curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as her spouse moves between poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a world fueled by the hostility and dread that powers a political win. Multiple pages are devoted about the protagonist facing cancellation on social media, her occupation changed from "author" to "landlord" on a reference site. She still gives the impression to care a little too much about this. In a moment 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 not understand, would not even perceive".

The Homicide Account

Then we reach to the actual killing – and the eponymous day passed by the victim with the killer and his associates. Kraus utilizes compelling foundational content, and reconstructs step by step what occurred as Brandon came to visit Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He was hoping for sex but seems affably to have spent the day in the company of her associates, mooching around having his vehicle repaired and funding treats and narcotics, before being shot by Brittney's partner Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

Catt develops an obsession by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and reckless transgression wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to explore more thoroughly her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who comes alive partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The whole section feels curiously unresolved, to the point that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par