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The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – An Iconic Writer Ventures Into Fresh Territory

The new book centers on individuals chasing after fresh starts, attempting to leave behind substance abuse or abusive marriages, only to witness hope devolve into violence. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", rendering it intentionally weary through constant reiteration. Phrases such as "He aimed to start over" and "They decided to make a fresh start" appear throughout the narrative. Meanwhile, Kraus herself appears to be undertaking her individual reinvention, because this seems a novel form of writing – observational, authentically narrative. But then it turns out to be filled with the same dilemmas and styles as earlier books.

From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work

Kraus was originally an artist who became a writer almost accidentally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, made up of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, transforming personal female narrative from self-debasement into assassination. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent fascinating and rebarbative novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the correspondence format brought to the tone of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her identity as a maverick maker who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was much discussion on property transactions. It is logical that she presently aims to try out new kinds of material, turning outward to other people's stories, at a period in which she states that Trumpian politics turns intimate literature obsolete.

Several Eras, Shared Inescapable History

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, spanning several time periods – each trapped by their backgrounds. We encounter the story of characters Emma and Jasper, versions of her own mother and father, relocating from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. There is the account of Kraus, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the belated success of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction a man named Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a locality largely deserted by forward-thinking policies only a short distance from Catt's cottage in the Minnesota countryside.

From my perspective as a reader drawn to polished prose of the sort the author herself typically rejects, I was seduced by the literary tone of the opening part.

As someone who reads drawn to crafted language of the kind that Kraus often disregards, I was captivated by the storytelling approach of the first section. It exhibits a novel degree of detail that allows space for minutiae, like the container that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, helped by her beloved father. "I found an ice toy!" she says; "a lovely toy", he answers, "the nuanced interpretations of terms circulating in their speech like piece candy". Kraus writes Emma's story with curiosity and intimacy. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not hers, exactly."

Letdown and Fragmentation

I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this fresh tone could continue through the novel. Kraus says here that she resents the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she echoes from her hero Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her previous novels returns in the middle section. The protagonist is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between the Midwest and the West Coast, failing to help her husband control his drinking. She feels helpless as Paul moves between poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a world propelled by the rage and anxiety that underpins an electoral success. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her occupation changed from "novelist" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she could potentially understand something about an the nation that her social media opponents would be unable to grasp, would not even perceive".

The Murder Narrative

Then we reach to the murder itself – and the titular day spent by the deceased with the killer and his associates. Kraus utilizes great source material, and reconstructs step by step what happened when a man named 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 alongside her friends, wandering about getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by her romantic interest Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that her twin drives towards ethical reporting and reckless transgression tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to go further into her personal fixations here. The compelling persona is the character Brittney, who comes alive in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus tells us that Catt speaks to Brittney in jail, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The complete segment feels strangely incomplete, to the point that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par

Written by

Jessica Ruiz

A tech entrepreneur and writer passionate about digital transformation and sustainable business practices.

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