The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – An Iconic Writer Explores Fresh Territory
The new book centers on individuals chasing after new beginnings, attempting to leave behind addictions or harmful partnerships, only to find hope curdling into conflict. Chris Kraus often employs the phrase "new beginning", transforming it into willfully cynical through its repetitions. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the story. Meanwhile, Kraus herself appears to be undertaking her personal new beginning, because this appears a novel form of writing – observational, truly literary. But then it turns out to be laden with the recurring issues and approaches as her previous works.
From Unplanned Author to Cult Classic
The writer was originally an artist who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, transforming confessional female writing from self-debasement into defiance. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels missed the power and directness that the epistolary style infused into the tone of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a extensive real estate holder, 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 other people's stories, at a moment when she asserts that contemporary political climate turns intimate literature redundant.
Three Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, covering several time periods – none able to break free from their pasts. We encounter the narrative about Emma and Jasper, based on her own mother and father, relocating from the Bronx to rural Connecticut. There is the account of Kraus, in the persona of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a town mostly forsaken by progressive politics only a brief drive from Catt's cottage in the Minnesota countryside.
For this reader fond of refined literature of the type the author herself tends to eschew, I was enchanted by the literary tone of the initial segment.
Being a reader drawn to crafted language of the variety that Kraus tends to eschew, I was won over by the literary tone of the first section. It exhibits a fresh level of observation that allows space for small details, like the pail that the protagonist as a child pries out of frozen water at the beginning of the narrative, helped by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a nice toy", he answers, "the elliptical meanings of words circulating in their speech like sweet treats". Kraus writes Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not entirely her own."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was fated to feel let down when I hoped this different style could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she resents the enjoyment those who appreciate polished prose have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the unpolished style she echoes from her hero author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her previous novels comes back in the middle section. The protagonist is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in the city's most challenging districts while traveling between the Midwest and the West Coast, unable to aid Paul manage his alcohol use. She feels helpless as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a society driven by the hostility and dread that drives a political win. There are several pages about the protagonist facing cancellation on a platform, her listed profession modified from "novelist" to "property owner" on a reference site. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. At one point she says that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she could potentially understand something about an America that her social media opponents would not understand, would overlook entirely".
The Homicide Account
So then we come to the murder itself – and the referenced day spent by the victim with the perpetrator and his friends. Kraus utilizes excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour 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 amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, loitering fixing his automobile and paying for snacks and drugs, before being murdered by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for fits of anger.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
The protagonist becomes fixated by the story, and I was intrigued by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards accurate chronicling and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. Yet I wished her to go further into her personal fixations here. The compelling persona is Brittney herself, who comes alive partly through Catt seeing herself in her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a troubled, forgotten town. The author informs us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par