The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Explores New Ground

The Four Spent the Day Together features characters pursuing fresh starts, struggling to escape substance abuse or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into violence. Kraus frequently uses the phrase "fresh start", rendering it willfully cynical through recurring use. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" appear throughout the narrative. At the same time, the author herself seems to be making her personal new beginning, since this presents as a novel form of writing – observational, genuinely novelistic. Yet it turns out to be packed with the familiar conflicts and styles as earlier books.

From Chance Novelist to Iconic Work

Chris Kraus was originally an visual artist who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, made up of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, elevating confessional female writing from self-debasement into assassination. She continued writing, but the following three engaging and challenging novels missed the impact and rawness that the correspondence format brought to the tone of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her position as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It is logical that she currently desires to explore new kinds of material, looking outwards to other people's stories, at a time when she states that contemporary political climate makes confessional writing obsolete.

Three Generations, Collective Unavoidable Background

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, covering several time periods – all unable to escape their backgrounds. We encounter the tale of a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, transitioning from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. Additionally the narrative of the author, in the guise of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. The third thread involves the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a locality long abandoned by liberal ideals only a brief drive from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.

For this reader fond of polished prose of the type Kraus herself typically rejects, I was enchanted by the literary tone of the first section.

As someone who reads who appreciates precise prose of the kind that the author tends to eschew, I was captivated by the literary tone of the initial part. It exhibits a novel degree of detail that allows space for minutiae, like the pail that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the start of the story, helped by her beloved father. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he answers, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". The author narrates the tale of Emma with interest and closeness. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not precisely her dream."

Frustration and Disruption

I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this different style could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the enjoyment those who appreciate polished prose have derived from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she echoes from her hero Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her previous novels returns in the second segment. The protagonist is working on refurbishing multiple decrepit residences in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between two different states, unsuccessful in assisting her husband control his drinking. She is overwhelmed as her spouse transitions between underfunded jobs as an substance abuse counselor in a society driven by the hostility and dread that powers a political win. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt being cancelled on a platform, her occupation changed from "author" to "property owner" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. In a moment she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she could potentially understand something about an the nation that her online critics would be unable to grasp, would not even perceive".

The Murder Narrative

So then we come to the murder itself – and the referenced day passed by the deceased with the murderer and his companions. The author possesses compelling foundational content, and details moment by moment what transpired when a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she marketed explicit images. He was hoping for sex but appears congenially to have passed the day with her companions, loitering getting his car mended and paying for snacks and drugs, before being killed by gunfire by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards accurate chronicling and daring boundary-pushing clash in this segment. However, I would have preferred her to go further into her individual preoccupations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who comes alive partly through the protagonist's connection to her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman going off the rails in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus tells us that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she fails to enact these dialogues. This entire part feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par