The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with individuals seeking new beginnings, struggling to escape drugs or abusive marriages, only to witness hope devolve into conflict. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "new beginning", rendering it willfully cynical through its repetitions. Phrases such as "He could make a fresh start" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the text. And yet, Kraus herself is embarking on her personal new beginning, as this appears a different type of work – observational, authentically narrative. However it reveals itself to be filled with the recurring issues and styles as past novels.
From Unplanned Author to Cult Classic
The writer started out as an artist who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, converting confessional female writing from self-debasement into defiance. She persisted as a writer, but the following three engaging and challenging novels did not possess the shock and immediacy that the epistolary style brought to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a renegade artist who had become a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was much discussion on housing investments. It is logical that she currently desires to explore new kinds of material, turning outward to external narratives, at a moment when she claims that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative redundant.
Multiple Generations, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning several time periods – none able to break free from their backgrounds. We encounter the story of Emma and Jasper, representations of her own mother and father, moving from the New York borough to a pastoral setting. Then there is the account of Kraus, in the guise of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the belated success of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her addict husband her husband Paul. Finally the story of the murder of one directionless individual by another in a community mostly forsaken by progressive politics only a short distance from Catt's rural residence in a remote part of Minnesota.
For this reader drawn to polished prose of the kind Kraus herself typically rejects, I was captivated by the narrative style of the opening part.
Being a reader who favors crafted language of the style that Kraus usually avoids, I was won over by the literary tone of the initial part. It possesses a fresh level of observation that allows space for small details, like the container that the youthful Catt frees from the ice at the opening of the book, aided by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a lovely toy", he responds, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". The author narrates the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not entirely her own."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this fresh tone could continue through the novel. The author states here that she is annoyed by the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have gotten from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she shares with her inspiration Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her earlier works reasserts itself in the central part. Catt is trying to renovate 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between two different states, unable to aid Paul control his drinking. She feels helpless as Paul transitions between underfunded jobs as an addiction therapist in a world driven by the rage and anxiety that powers Trump's victory. There are several pages about Catt's social media ostracism on social media, her professional designation altered from "novelist" to "real estate holder" on the online encyclopedia. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. At one point she says that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she might be able to learn something about an the United States that her online critics would fail to comprehend, 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 compelling foundational content, and reconstructs step by step what transpired when Brandon came to visit Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she offered adult photos. He sought a sexual encounter but appears congenially to have passed the day alongside her friends, loitering fixing his automobile and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by her romantic interest Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
Catt develops an obsession by the story, and I found myself captivated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and audacious rule-breaking wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to explore more thoroughly her personal fixations here. The most interesting character is the character Brittney, who gains dimension partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the degree that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par
