A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together from author Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Attempts Fresh Territory
This latest work is populated with individuals seeking clean slates, struggling to escape drugs or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into violence. The author repeatedly invokes the phrase "new beginning", making it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the text. And yet, she is embarking on her individual reinvention, since this presents as a novel form of writing – fact-based, authentically narrative. But then it reveals itself to be filled with the recurring issues and styles as her previous works.
From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work
The writer was originally an artist who entered the literary world unintentionally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, converting confessional female writing from self-debasement into defiance. She continued writing, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the power and directness that the correspondence format brought to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a nonconformist creator who had become a major property owner, so there was much discussion on housing investments. It makes sense that she presently aims to try out fresh narrative sources, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a time when she asserts that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative obsolete.
Multiple Generations, Collective Unavoidable Background
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, spanning three generations – none able to break free from their backgrounds. The book includes the tale of characters Emma and Jasper, versions of her own mother and father, relocating from the urban environment to a pastoral setting. There is the narrative of the author, in the persona of a figure named Catt Greene, confronting the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one troubled youth by another in a locality long abandoned by forward-thinking policies only 80 miles from Catt's rural residence in rural Minnesota.
As a reader attracted to honed writing of the kind the author herself often avoids, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the first section.
As someone who reads who favors crafted language of the variety that Kraus usually avoids, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the initial part. There is a novel degree of detail that accommodates small details, like the bucket that the protagonist as a child pries out of frozen water at the opening of the book, assisted by her beloved father. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he answers, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". The author narrates Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not precisely her dream."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this fresh tone could persist to the end. The author states here that she is annoyed by the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the unpolished style she shares with her idol writer Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her previous novels reasserts itself in the central part. The protagonist is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in the city's most challenging districts while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting Paul manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as Paul transitions between underfunded jobs as an substance abuse counselor in a environment propelled by the anger and fear that powers a political win. There are several pages about Catt being cancelled on social media, her occupation changed from "novelist" to "landlord" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she says that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she might be able to learn something about an the nation that her online critics would not understand, would not even perceive".
The Killing Story
Then we reach to the actual killing – and the titular day experienced by the deceased with the murderer and his companions. Kraus utilizes compelling foundational content, and details moment by moment what happened when a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He sought a sexual encounter but appears congenially to have passed the day alongside her friends, loitering getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's partner a man named Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for violent rage.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt develops an obsession by the narrative, and I was fascinated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards responsible documentation and audacious rule-breaking tussle in this section. However, I would have preferred her to explore more thoroughly her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who comes alive in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman derailing in a troubled, forgotten town. The author informs us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in detention, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the degree that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par