The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Explores Fresh Territory

The new book features individuals chasing after clean slates, attempting to leave behind drugs or toxic relationships, only to see hope turn into violence. Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "new beginning", rendering it willfully cynical through its repetitions. Phrases such as "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They chose to begin anew" recur in the story. Meanwhile, Kraus herself is embarking on her personal new beginning, since this presents as a novel form of writing – observational, truly literary. Yet it reveals itself to be filled with the familiar conflicts and approaches as earlier books.

From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work

Chris Kraus was originally an creative who entered the literary world somewhat by chance with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, which was composed of letters to an unreceptive lover, converting intimate women's literature from abjection into assassination. She persisted as a writer, but the next trio of engaging and challenging novels missed the power and directness that the epistolary style imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It makes sense that she now wants to explore fresh narrative sources, turning outward to external narratives, at a time when she claims that contemporary political climate renders personal narrative unnecessary.

Multiple Generations, One Unescapable Past

The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, spanning multiple eras – all unable to escape their backgrounds. There is the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of her own mother and father, transitioning from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. 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 addict husband her husband Paul. The third thread involves the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a locality largely deserted by liberal ideals only a brief drive from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.

For this reader attracted to polished prose of the type Kraus herself often avoids, I was captivated by the literary tone of the opening part.

Being a reader who favors precise prose of the style that the author tends to eschew, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the initial part. It possesses a fresh level of observation that accommodates small details, like the container that the protagonist as a child pries out of frozen water at the start of the story, helped by her beloved father. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a lovely toy", he replies, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". Kraus writes Emma's narrative with curiosity and intimacy. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not entirely her own."

Letdown and Fragmentation

I was fated to feel let down when I hoped this new voice could last out the book. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the satisfaction readers like me have derived from I Love Dick; she's devoted to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her inspiration author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her earlier works returns in the middle section. Catt is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, failing to help Paul control his drinking. She experiences powerlessness as Paul transitions between poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a world driven by the hostility and dread that underpins Trump's victory. Multiple pages are devoted about the protagonist facing cancellation on a platform, her listed profession modified from "author" to "real estate holder" on Wikipedia. She still gives the impression to invest excessive emotion about this. In a moment she remarks that she's looking into the killing so that before exiting the region, "she might be able to learn something about an America that her social media opponents would not understand, would overlook entirely".

The Homicide Account

Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the eponymous day passed by the deceased with the murderer and his companions. The author possesses excellent raw material, and details moment by moment what transpired when the victim Brandon came to visit Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day alongside her friends, wandering about having his vehicle repaired and funding treats and narcotics, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.

Fascination and Incompletion

The protagonist becomes fixated by the story, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and audacious rule-breaking tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to explore more thoroughly her individual preoccupations here. The most interesting character is Brittney herself, who becomes vivid partly through Catt seeing herself in her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman going off the rails in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels strangely incomplete, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par

Betty Martinez
Betty Martinez

A tech strategist with over a decade of experience in network architecture and digital transformation projects.