Exploring The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Explores Something New

This latest work features protagonists chasing after new beginnings, attempting to leave behind drugs or toxic relationships, only to see hope turn into aggression. The author frequently uses the phrase "fresh start", making it intentionally weary through constant reiteration. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the narrative. And yet, Kraus herself seems to be making her own fresh start, as this seems a novel form of writing – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. But then it reveals itself to be laden with the recurring issues and aesthetics as earlier books.

From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work

Kraus was originally an artist who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, elevating confessional female writing from abjection into rebellion. She kept producing books, but the following three compelling and abrasive novels missed the impact and rawness that the letter form infused into the voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her position as a nonconformist creator who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on real estate deals. It makes sense that she currently desires to try out new kinds of material, directing her gaze to the experiences of others, at a period in which she claims that current political era makes confessional writing unnecessary.

Multiple Generations, Shared Inescapable History

The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, covering multiple eras – all unable to escape their pasts. We encounter the narrative about characters Emma and Jasper, versions of her own mother and father, relocating from the New York borough to a pastoral setting. There is the story of Kraus herself, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, reckoning with the belated success of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her partner struggling with addiction her husband Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a community mostly forsaken by liberal ideals only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.

For this reader fond of refined literature of the type the author herself tends to eschew, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the opening part.

Being a reader who appreciates precise prose of the variety that Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was captivated by the storytelling approach of the initial part. There is a fresh level of observation that makes room for minutiae, like the container 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 exclaims; "a great plaything", he answers, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". She tells Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not entirely her own."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was destined to be disappointed when I expected this fresh tone could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she dislikes the pleasure readers like me have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her hero Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her earlier works reasserts itself in the second segment. Catt Greene is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting Paul control his drinking. She is overwhelmed as Paul moves between underfunded jobs as an recovery specialist in a world propelled by the rage and anxiety that drives Trump's victory. There are several pages about the protagonist facing cancellation on social media, her occupation changed from "author" to "real estate holder" on Wikipedia. The author still appears to be overly concerned about this. On one occasion she says that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she could potentially understand something about an America that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would overlook entirely".

The Murder Narrative

Then we reach to the actual killing – and the referenced day spent by the deceased with the murderer and his companions. Kraus has compelling foundational content, and reconstructs step by step what occurred as the victim Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she sold sex pictures. He sought a sexual encounter but appears congenially to have passed the day with her companions, mooching around fixing his automobile and funding treats and narcotics, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's partner Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has often been institutionalized for violent rage.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards responsible documentation and reckless transgression wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her individual preoccupations here. The standout figure is the character Brittney, who becomes vivid partly through Catt seeing herself in her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the degree that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par