The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Renowned Writer Attempts Fresh Territory

The new book centers on individuals chasing after clean slates, attempting to leave behind substance abuse or toxic relationships, only to find hope curdling into conflict. The author frequently uses the phrase "fresh start", making it intentionally weary through recurring use. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" appear throughout the narrative. And yet, she appears to be undertaking her individual reinvention, as this seems a new kind of book – documentarian, truly literary. But then it reveals itself to be laden with the same dilemmas and approaches as her previous works.

From Chance Novelist to Cult Classic

The writer started out as an visual artist who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, converting intimate women's literature from humiliation into defiance. She continued writing, but the next trio of engaging and challenging novels missed the power and directness that the correspondence format brought to the tone of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her role as a maverick maker who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was much discussion on real estate deals. It follows that she presently aims to experiment with different types of content, turning outward to external narratives, at a period in which she states that contemporary political climate makes confessional writing unnecessary.

Several Eras, One Unescapable Past

The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, covering several time periods – none able to break free from their backgrounds. There is the tale of a couple named Emma and Jasper, representations of the author's parents, relocating from the New York borough to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the narrative of the author, in the guise of Catt Greene, reckoning with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence 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 community long abandoned by liberal ideals only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in the Minnesota countryside.

For this reader fond of honed writing of the kind Kraus herself typically rejects, I was seduced by the narrative style of the initial segment.

As someone who reads who appreciates precise prose of the variety that the author often disregards, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the initial part. It possesses a novel degree of detail that allows space for minutiae, like the pail that the protagonist as a child frees from the ice at the opening of the book, aided by her cherished parent. "I found an ice toy!" she says; "a nice toy", he responds, "the elliptical meanings of words tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". The author narrates Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not hers, exactly."

Frustration and Disruption

I was fated to feel let down when I expected this different style could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the enjoyment audiences such as myself have gotten from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disruption, to the untidy aesthetics she echoes from her hero author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her earlier works returns in the central part. Catt is trying to renovate three dozen dilapidated units in the city's most challenging districts while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, failing to help her husband control his drinking. She experiences powerlessness as Paul transitions between poorly supported positions as an recovery specialist in a world driven by the anger and fear that underpins Trump's victory. Multiple pages are devoted about the protagonist facing cancellation on social media, her listed profession modified from "author" to "property owner" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she says that she's investigating the murder so that before leaving Minnesota, "she might be able to learn something about an the United States that her social media opponents would be unable to grasp, would overlook entirely".

The Homicide Account

Then we reach to the actual killing – and the referenced day passed by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his associates. The author possesses excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what happened when Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she sold sex pictures. He sought a sexual encounter but seems amiably to have occupied the day in the company of her associates, wandering about getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by Brittney's partner Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has often been institutionalized for fits of anger.

Fascination and Incompletion

Catt gets obsessed by the story, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and reckless transgression tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to explore more thoroughly her own obsessions here. The standout figure is Brittney, who comes alive partially because of Catt seeing herself in her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. The author informs us that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels oddly unfinished, to the degree that her narrative ends almost mid-par