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

The new book features protagonists chasing after new beginnings, trying to break free from drugs or toxic relationships, only to see hope turn into violence. Kraus frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", making it intentionally weary through recurring use. Phrases such as "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They opted for a clean break" appear throughout the narrative. Meanwhile, the author herself appears to be undertaking her individual reinvention, as this presents as a different type of work – observational, genuinely novelistic. However it reveals itself to be packed with the same dilemmas and styles as past novels.

From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work

Kraus was originally an artist who entered the literary world unintentionally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, made up of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, elevating confessional female writing from humiliation into rebellion. She continued writing, but the following three engaging and challenging novels lacked the shock and immediacy that the epistolary style infused into the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her role as a maverick maker who had become a extensive real estate holder, so there was much discussion on property transactions. It makes sense that she presently aims to try out new kinds of material, looking outwards to other people's stories, at a moment when she asserts that Trumpian politics turns intimate literature obsolete.

Several Eras, Collective Unavoidable Background

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, spanning multiple eras – each trapped by their histories. The book includes the narrative about characters Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, transitioning from the urban environment to a pastoral setting. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the guise of a figure named Catt Greene, confronting the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. The third thread involves the narrative of a homicide of one directionless individual by another in a locality mostly forsaken by liberal ideals only a short distance from the protagonist's home in the Minnesota countryside.

As a reader drawn to polished prose of the type Kraus herself typically rejects, I was enchanted by the narrative style of the opening part.

As a reader who appreciates precise prose of the variety that Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the initial part. It exhibits a novel degree of detail that makes room for small details, like the pail that the protagonist as a child pries out of frozen water at the beginning of the narrative, helped by her adored dad. "I found an ice toy!" she says; "a nice toy", he responds, "the elliptical meanings of words tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". She tells Emma's story with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not entirely her own."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was destined to be disappointed when I wished this fresh tone could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the satisfaction audiences such as myself have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the unpolished style she shares with her idol author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her earlier works returns in the central part. Catt Greene is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while moving between two different states, unsuccessful in assisting her husband curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as Paul cycles through underfunded jobs as an recovery specialist in a world driven by the rage and anxiety that drives an electoral success. There are several pages about Catt's social media ostracism on social media, her occupation changed from "author" to "landlord" on a reference site. She still gives the impression to invest excessive emotion about this. At one point she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before departing the state, "she might be able to learn something about an the nation that her Twitter detractors would be unable to grasp, would not even see".

The Homicide Account

Thus we arrive to the murder itself – and the eponymous day spent by the victim with the murderer and his associates. Kraus utilizes compelling foundational content, and knows hour by hour what happened when the victim Brandon came to see Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day in the company of her associates, mooching around having his vehicle repaired and funding treats and narcotics, before being shot by her romantic interest Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

Catt gets obsessed by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that her twin drives towards responsible documentation and audacious rule-breaking tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her personal fixations here. The compelling persona is Brittney herself, who gains dimension in part due to Catt's identification with her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual derailing in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. This entire part feels curiously unresolved, to the point that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par