The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – An Iconic Writer Explores Fresh Territory
The new book centers on protagonists chasing after clean slates, attempting to leave behind addictions or toxic relationships, only to find hope curdling into conflict. Kraus frequently uses the phrase "fresh start", transforming it into deliberately jaded through recurring use. Phrases such as "He aimed to start over" and "They decided to make a fresh start" recur in the narrative. At the same time, she seems to be making her personal new beginning, because this appears a new kind of book – documentarian, truly literary. Yet it turns out to be laden with the recurring issues and approaches as past novels.
From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus started out as an creative who became a writer unintentionally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, made up of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, converting confessional female writing from self-debasement into assassination. She kept producing books, but the following three engaging and challenging novels missed the power and directness that the correspondence format infused into the tone of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her identity as a renegade artist who had become a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was significant attention on housing investments. It is logical that she presently aims to explore fresh narrative sources, turning outward to external narratives, at a period in which she asserts that current political era renders personal narrative obsolete.
Three Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning multiple eras – none able to break free from their backgrounds. We encounter the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, based on the author's parents, moving from the urban environment to rural Connecticut. There is the narrative of the author, in the character of Catt Greene, grappling with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction a man named Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a town largely deserted by liberal ideals only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in the Minnesota countryside.
For this reader fond of polished prose of the sort the author herself typically rejects, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the first section.
As a reader who appreciates honed writing of the variety that Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was captivated by the literary tone of the initial part. It possesses a novel degree of detail that allows space for small details, like the pail that the young Catt frees from the ice at the beginning of the narrative, assisted by her adored dad. "I found an ice toy!" she declares; "a great plaything", he responds, "the elliptical meanings of words rolling around in their mouths like piece candy". The author narrates Emma's narrative with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not precisely her dream."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was bound to become frustrated when I expected this fresh tone could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she dislikes the satisfaction readers like me have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to fragmentation, to the untidy aesthetics she has in common with her inspiration Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her previous novels comes back in the second segment. The protagonist is attempting to do up multiple decrepit residences in the city's most challenging districts while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, unable to aid Paul manage his alcohol use. She feels helpless as her spouse moves between low-resource employment as an substance abuse counselor in a environment propelled by the anger and fear that underpins a political win. Multiple pages are devoted about the protagonist facing cancellation on social media, her professional designation altered from "author" to "landlord" on Wikipedia. The author still appears to be overly concerned about this. In a moment she states that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she could potentially understand something about an America that her online critics would not understand, would overlook entirely".
The Killing Story
So then we come to the murder itself – and the eponymous day passed by the deceased with the killer and his friends. Kraus utilizes compelling foundational content, and reconstructs step by step what occurred as a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she sold sex pictures. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day in the company of her associates, wandering about getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has often been institutionalized for aggressive outbursts.
Fascination and Incompletion
The protagonist becomes fixated by the narrative, and I found myself captivated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing tussle in this section. However, I would have preferred her to delve deeper into her own obsessions here. The standout figure is the character Brittney, who gains dimension partly through the protagonist's connection to her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in jail, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par