The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with individuals seeking new beginnings, attempting to leave behind addictions or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into conflict. Kraus often employs the phrase "clean slate", rendering it deliberately jaded through constant reiteration. Sentences like "He aimed to start over" and "They opted for a clean break" recur in the text. At the same time, Kraus herself is embarking on her personal new beginning, as this seems a different type of work – observational, genuinely novelistic. Yet it proves to be filled with the same dilemmas and approaches as past novels.
From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus was originally an creative who became a writer almost accidentally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, which was composed of missives to a distant beloved, transforming intimate women's literature from self-debasement into defiance. She continued writing, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels lacked the power and directness that the correspondence format brought to the tone of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a renegade artist who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was much discussion on property transactions. It makes sense that she presently aims to experiment with fresh narrative sources, directing her gaze to the experiences of others, at a period in which she claims that current political era turns intimate literature unnecessary.
Multiple Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning multiple eras – each trapped by their backgrounds. The book includes the narrative about Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, moving from the New York borough to a pastoral setting. Additionally the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of Catt Greene, grappling with the delayed acclaim 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 directionless individual by another in a locality long abandoned by liberal ideals only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.
For this reader attracted to polished prose of the type Kraus herself typically rejects, I was enchanted by the narrative style of the first section.
Being a reader who favors crafted language of the style that Kraus herself often disregards, I was captivated by the storytelling approach of the initial part. There is a fresh level of observation that allows space for minutiae, like the bucket that the protagonist as a child dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, aided by her adored dad. "I found an ice toy!" she says; "a lovely toy", he replies, "the elliptical meanings of words tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". She tells Emma's story with interest and closeness. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this new voice could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the pleasure readers like me have derived from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disjunction, to the messy artistic approach she shares with her idol author Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her past books reasserts itself in the central part. The protagonist is trying to renovate 36 run-down apartments in the city's most challenging districts while moving between Minnesota and LA, unsuccessful in assisting her husband curb his addiction. She is overwhelmed as her spouse moves between poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a society fueled by the anger and fear that powers an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her professional designation altered from "novelist" to "landlord" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to be overly concerned about this. At one point she says that she's looking into the killing so that before exiting the region, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would overlook entirely".
The Homicide Account
Thus we arrive to the murder itself – and the referenced day passed by the deceased with the killer and his friends. The author possesses great source material, and knows hour by hour what happened when a man named Brandon came to visit Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she sold sex pictures. He anticipated intimacy but appears congenially to have passed the day alongside her friends, wandering about having his vehicle repaired and paying for snacks and drugs, before being murdered by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has frequently been hospitalised for aggressive outbursts.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt gets obsessed by the narrative, and I was fascinated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing clash in this segment. Yet I wished her to go further into her personal fixations here. The most interesting character is Brittney herself, who gains dimension in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus tells us that Catt converses with Brittney in prison, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. This entire part feels strangely incomplete, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par
