The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with protagonists pursuing new beginnings, struggling to escape drugs or toxic relationships, only to see hope turn into conflict. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", rendering it willfully cynical through recurring use. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the narrative. Meanwhile, Kraus herself appears to be undertaking her own fresh start, because this appears a different type of work – documentarian, authentically narrative. Yet it turns out to be filled with the same dilemmas and aesthetics as her previous works.
From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus was originally an creative who transitioned to writing somewhat by chance with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, which was composed of letters to an unreceptive lover, transforming intimate women's literature from self-debasement into defiance. She continued writing, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels missed the shock and immediacy 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 evolved into a extensive real estate holder, so there was significant attention on housing investments. It follows that she presently aims to explore fresh narrative sources, directing her gaze to other people's stories, at a moment when she claims that contemporary political climate renders personal narrative obsolete.
Three Generations, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, covering several time periods – none able to break free from their pasts. There is the tale of a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, transitioning from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the guise of a figure named Catt Greene, confronting the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse Paul. The third thread involves the narrative of a homicide of one directionless individual by another in a community mostly forsaken by forward-thinking policies only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.
From my perspective as a reader drawn to honed writing of the type the author herself often avoids, I was captivated by the literary tone of the opening part.
As someone who reads drawn to precise prose of the kind that Kraus usually avoids, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the initial part. It possesses a fresh level of observation that makes room for small details, like the pail that the young Catt dislodges from ice at the start of the story, aided by her beloved father. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a lovely toy", he answers, "the elliptical meanings of words tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". Kraus writes Emma's story with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not hers, exactly."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was bound to become frustrated when I expected this new voice could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she resents the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have gotten from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disjunction, to the unpolished style she shares with her inspiration author Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her previous novels comes back in the middle section. Catt is trying to renovate three dozen dilapidated units in the city's most challenging districts while shuttling between two different states, unable to aid her husband control his drinking. She feels helpless as Paul transitions between underfunded jobs as an substance abuse counselor in a society propelled by the anger and fear that drives a political win. A significant portion discusses about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her professional designation altered from "writer" to "landlord" on Wikipedia. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she says that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her Twitter detractors would not understand, would not even see".
The Murder Narrative
So then we come to the actual killing – and the titular day experienced by the victim with the killer and his friends. Kraus has compelling foundational content, and details moment by moment what happened when the victim Brandon came to visit Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she offered adult photos. He anticipated intimacy but seems affably to have spent the day with her companions, loitering having his vehicle repaired and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by Brittney's boyfriend a man named Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has often been institutionalized for violent rage.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
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 wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to explore more thoroughly her personal fixations here. The compelling persona is the character Brittney, who gains dimension partly through Catt's identification with 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 omits the dramatization of these talks. This entire part feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par
