The Four Spent the Day Together centers on protagonists seeking new beginnings, trying to break free from drugs or toxic relationships, only to see hope turn into aggression. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "new beginning", transforming it into intentionally weary through constant reiteration. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They chose to begin anew" appear throughout the story. At the same time, the author herself seems to be making her personal new beginning, because this appears a different type of work – observational, truly literary. But then it reveals itself to be filled with the same dilemmas and approaches as past novels.
From Unplanned Author to Renowned Book
Chris Kraus was originally an visual artist who entered the literary world unintentionally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, elevating intimate women's literature from self-debasement into defiance. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent engaging and challenging novels lacked the impact and rawness that the correspondence format imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a renegade artist who had become a extensive real estate holder, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It is logical that she currently desires to try out fresh narrative sources, turning outward to other people's stories, at a time when she asserts that contemporary political climate turns intimate literature obsolete.
Multiple Generations, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, covering several time periods – none able to break free from their backgrounds. We encounter the narrative about Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, relocating from the urban environment to rural Connecticut. There is the account of Kraus, in the character of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the belated success of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her addict husband a man named Paul. Finally the narrative of a homicide of one directionless individual by another in a town mostly forsaken by progressive politics only a brief drive from Catt's cottage in rural Minnesota.
For this reader attracted to honed writing of the type the author herself tends to eschew, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the opening part.
Being a reader drawn to honed writing of the kind that the author often disregards, I was captivated by the storytelling approach of the initial part. It exhibits a fresh level of observation that makes room for trivial aspects, like the container that the youthful Catt frees from the ice at the opening of the book, assisted by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he answers, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". She tells the tale of Emma with inquiry and familiarity. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not entirely her own."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was destined to be disappointed when I expected this new voice could persist to the end. Kraus says here that she resents the pleasure audiences such as myself have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to fragmentation, to the untidy aesthetics she shares with her idol Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her previous novels returns in the middle section. The protagonist is trying to renovate three dozen dilapidated units in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while traveling between Minnesota and LA, failing to help her husband curb his addiction. She is overwhelmed as Paul cycles through underfunded jobs as an recovery specialist in a world propelled by the rage and anxiety that drives Trump's victory. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt's social media ostracism on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "author" to "real estate holder" on a reference site. The author still appears to be overly concerned about this. In a moment she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her social media opponents would not understand, would overlook entirely".
The Murder Narrative
So then we come to the homicide in question – and the eponymous day passed by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his companions. 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 offered adult photos. He was hoping for sex but seems affably to have spent the day with her companions, mooching around fixing his automobile and funding treats and narcotics, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for violent rage.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt develops an obsession by the narrative, and I found myself captivated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards ethical reporting and reckless transgression clash in this segment. However, I would have preferred her to delve deeper into her personal fixations here. The most interesting character is Brittney, who gains dimension partly through the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. The author informs us that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the degree that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par
