A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together by author Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Attempts New Ground
The new book centers on protagonists seeking new beginnings, struggling to escape drugs or abusive marriages, only to witness hope devolve into violence. The author frequently uses the phrase "fresh start", making it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Sentences like "He aimed to start over" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the story. Meanwhile, the author herself seems to be making her personal new beginning, because this presents as a different type of work – documentarian, genuinely novelistic. But then it turns out to be filled with the same dilemmas and aesthetics as her previous works.
From Chance Novelist to Cult Classic
Chris Kraus started out as an visual artist who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, which was composed of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, elevating personal female narrative from abjection into assassination. She continued writing, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the correspondence format infused into the narrative voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a maverick maker who had become a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was significant attention on property transactions. It follows that she presently aims to experiment with new kinds of material, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a moment when she claims that current political era turns intimate literature redundant.
Three Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, covering several time periods – each trapped by their backgrounds. The book includes the story of characters Emma and Jasper, representations of her own mother and father, transitioning from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the account of Kraus, in the character of a figure named Catt Greene, reckoning with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her partner struggling with addiction her husband Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a town long abandoned by forward-thinking policies only a brief drive from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.
As a reader drawn to polished prose of the type Kraus herself typically rejects, I was captivated by the literary tone of the opening part.
As someone who reads who appreciates precise prose of the variety that the author often disregards, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the first section. It exhibits a new quality of attentiveness that makes room for trivial aspects, like the pail that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, assisted by her beloved father. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a great plaything", he responds, "the elliptical meanings of words circulating in their speech like piece candy". She tells Emma's story with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not precisely her dream."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was destined to be disappointed when I wished this fresh tone could persist to the end. Kraus says here that she dislikes the satisfaction readers like me have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the unpolished style she shares with her hero writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her past books returns in the middle section. The protagonist is trying to renovate three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between two different states, unsuccessful in assisting her husband manage his alcohol use. She feels helpless as her spouse transitions between low-resource employment as an recovery specialist in a environment fueled by the hostility and dread that drives a political win. There are several pages about Catt's social media ostracism 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 states that she's investigating the murder so that before departing the state, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would not even perceive".
The Homicide Account
So then we come to the murder itself – and the titular day experienced by the deceased with the perpetrator and his friends. The author possesses great source material, and details moment by moment what happened when the victim Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she offered adult photos. He was hoping for sex but seems amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, loitering fixing his automobile and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.
Fascination and Incompletion
Catt develops an obsession by the story, and I was intrigued by the way that her twin drives towards responsible documentation and audacious rule-breaking wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to go further into her individual preoccupations here. The standout figure is Brittney herself, who comes alive in part due to Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in jail, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The whole section feels strangely incomplete, to the point that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par