A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Explores Something New

The Four Spent the Day Together centers on protagonists chasing after fresh starts, struggling to escape substance abuse or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into aggression. The author frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", transforming it into willfully cynical through its repetitions. Sentences like "He aimed to start over" and "They decided to make a fresh start" recur in the text. And yet, Kraus herself is embarking on her own fresh start, since this appears a novel form of writing – observational, authentically narrative. But then it proves to be filled with the same dilemmas and styles as her previous works.

From Chance Novelist to Iconic Work

The writer started out as an visual artist who transitioned to writing somewhat by chance with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, elevating personal female narrative from self-debasement into assassination. She persisted as a writer, but the following three engaging and challenging novels missed the impact and rawness that the epistolary style brought to the tone of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a extensive real estate holder, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It is logical that she now wants to explore new kinds of material, directing her gaze to external narratives, at a time when she claims that current political era renders personal narrative unnecessary.

Three Generations, Shared Inescapable History

The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning three generations – each trapped by their histories. The book includes the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, transitioning from the New York borough to a pastoral setting. There is the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of a figure named Catt Greene, reckoning with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a locality largely deserted by progressive politics only 80 miles from Catt's rural residence in a remote part of Minnesota.

From my perspective as a reader fond of refined literature of the type Kraus often avoids, I was captivated by the narrative style of the initial segment.

As someone who reads who appreciates honed writing of the style that Kraus herself often disregards, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the opening segment. It possesses a novel degree of detail that allows space for small details, like the container that the young Catt dislodges from ice at the start of the story, assisted by her cherished parent. "I found an ice toy!" she says; "a lovely toy", he responds, "the elliptical meanings of words tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". The author narrates the tale of Emma with inquiry and familiarity. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not entirely her own."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this new voice could persist to the end. The author states 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 unpolished style she echoes from her hero Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her previous novels comes back in the middle section. Catt Greene is trying to renovate 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between the Midwest and the West Coast, failing to help Paul curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as her spouse cycles through poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a society propelled by the anger and fear that powers a political win. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt being cancelled on social media, her listed profession modified from "writer" to "landlord" on the online encyclopedia. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. At one point she remarks 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 online critics would be unable to grasp, would not even perceive".

The Homicide Account

So then we come to the homicide in question – and the titular day passed by the deceased with the perpetrator and his associates. The author possesses excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what occurred as Brandon came to see Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day in the company of her associates, wandering about having his vehicle repaired and paying for snacks and drugs, before being murdered by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.

Fascination and Incompletion

The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards responsible documentation and reckless transgression clash in this segment. However, I would have preferred her to go further into her individual preoccupations here. The standout figure is the character Brittney, who comes alive in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the point that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par