A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – An Iconic Writer Ventures Into Fresh Territory
The new book features protagonists pursuing clean slates, attempting to leave behind drugs or toxic relationships, only to see hope turn into conflict. The author repeatedly invokes the phrase "new beginning", rendering it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Phrases such as "He could make a fresh start" and "They decided to make a fresh start" recur in the story. And yet, Kraus herself seems to be making her personal new beginning, because this seems a different type of work – fact-based, authentically narrative. Yet it turns out to be laden with the recurring issues and aesthetics as earlier books.
From Chance Novelist to Renowned Book
The writer started out as an creative who entered the literary world somewhat by chance with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, converting intimate women's literature from abjection into defiance. She continued writing, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the correspondence format imparted to the voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her role as a maverick maker who had evolved into a extensive real estate holder, so there was much discussion on property transactions. It follows that she now wants to try out fresh narrative sources, looking outwards to external narratives, at a period in which she states that contemporary political climate turns intimate literature redundant.
Multiple Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning three generations – none able to break free from their histories. The book includes the story of Emma and Jasper, representations of the author's parents, transitioning from the urban environment to a pastoral setting. There is the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of a figure named Catt Greene, reckoning with the belated success of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse a man named Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one troubled youth by another in a town mostly forsaken by forward-thinking policies only a short distance from Catt's cottage in a remote part of Minnesota.
As a reader fond of honed writing of the type Kraus tends to eschew, I was captivated by the literary tone of the initial segment.
As someone who reads who favors honed writing of the variety that Kraus herself usually avoids, I was captivated by the literary tone of the first section. It possesses a new quality of attentiveness that allows space for trivial aspects, like the container that the protagonist as a child frees from the ice at the beginning of the narrative, aided by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a great plaything", he responds, "the nuanced interpretations of terms circulating in their speech like piece candy". She tells Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not precisely her dream."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was fated to feel let down when I wished this fresh tone could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she resents the enjoyment readers like me have gotten from I Love Dick; she's devoted to fragmentation, to the untidy aesthetics she shares with her idol Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her previous novels comes back in the central part. Catt is trying to renovate 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between Minnesota and LA, failing to help Paul curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as Paul transitions between underfunded jobs as an substance abuse counselor in a society propelled by the rage and anxiety that powers a political win. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her listed profession modified from "writer" 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 investigating the murder so that before departing the state, "she could potentially understand something about an the nation that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would not even perceive".
The Homicide Account
Then we reach to the actual killing – and the eponymous day experienced by the murdered individual with the killer and his associates. Kraus utilizes compelling foundational content, and knows hour by hour what transpired when a man named Brandon came to meet Brittney after meeting her on an app where she sold sex pictures. He was hoping for sex but appears congenially to have passed the day with her companions, wandering about fixing his automobile and funding treats and narcotics, before being murdered by Brittney's partner a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for violent rage.
Fascination and Incompletion
Catt gets obsessed by the narrative, and I was fascinated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to delve deeper into her personal fixations here. The compelling persona is Brittney herself, who gains dimension in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman derailing in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in jail, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The whole section feels strangely incomplete, to the degree that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par