This latest work is populated with protagonists seeking new beginnings, attempting to leave behind substance abuse or abusive marriages, only to see hope turn into violence. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "clean slate", making it intentionally weary through constant reiteration. Phrases such as "He aimed to start over" and "They decided to make a fresh start" recur in the text. At the same time, Kraus herself is embarking on her personal new beginning, as this seems a different type of work – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. But then it turns out to be laden with the familiar conflicts and styles as earlier books.
From Unplanned Author to Renowned Book
The writer was originally an creative who transitioned to writing somewhat by chance with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, transforming confessional female writing from self-debasement into defiance. She continued writing, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the shock and immediacy that the letter form infused into the voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a renegade artist who had turned into a major property owner, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It is logical that she currently desires to experiment with different types of content, looking outwards to the experiences of others, at a period in which she claims that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative unnecessary.
Several Eras, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, covering three generations – none able to break free from their histories. There is the story of a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, moving from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of Catt Greene, reckoning with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband a man named Paul. The third thread involves the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a locality largely deserted by forward-thinking policies only a brief drive from Catt's rural residence in a remote part of Minnesota.
From my perspective as a reader fond of honed writing of the sort Kraus often avoids, I was seduced by the narrative style of the opening part.
As someone who reads who appreciates honed writing of the kind that the author usually avoids, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the first section. It exhibits a fresh level of observation that makes room for minutiae, like the pail that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, helped by her beloved father. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a great plaything", he responds, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". The author narrates the tale of Emma with inquiry and familiarity. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not precisely her dream."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this different style could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the pleasure audiences such as myself have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the messy artistic approach she has in common with her inspiration writer Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her earlier works comes back in the central part. Catt is working on refurbishing three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between two different states, failing to help her husband control his drinking. She feels helpless as her spouse transitions between underfunded jobs as an substance abuse counselor in a society propelled by the rage and anxiety that underpins an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about the protagonist facing cancellation on Twitter, her professional designation altered from "novelist" to "landlord" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to be overly concerned about this. On one occasion she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she could potentially understand something about an America that her online critics would not understand, would overlook entirely".
The Killing Story
So then we come to the murder itself – and the eponymous day passed by the deceased with the murderer and his associates. Kraus has excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what occurred as a man named Brandon came to visit Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but appears congenially to have passed the day alongside her friends, loitering getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by Brittney's partner Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for fits of anger.
Fascination and Incompletion
Catt gets obsessed by the narrative, and I found myself captivated by the way that her twin drives towards accurate chronicling and daring boundary-pushing tussle in this section. However, I would have preferred her to go further into her personal fixations here. The compelling persona is Brittney, who comes alive in part due to Catt seeing herself in her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. The author informs us that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. This entire part feels curiously unresolved, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par
