The Four Spent the Day Together features characters chasing after new beginnings, attempting to leave behind addictions or toxic relationships, only to find hope curdling into violence. Kraus frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", rendering it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They chose to begin anew" recur in the story. Meanwhile, she appears to be undertaking her personal new beginning, because this appears a different type of work – fact-based, authentically narrative. But then it turns out to be laden with the familiar conflicts and aesthetics as earlier books.
Chris Kraus began as an creative who became a writer unintentionally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, transforming personal female narrative from self-debasement into defiance. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent fascinating and rebarbative novels did not possess the shock and immediacy that the letter form brought to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a renegade artist who had become a major property owner, so there was considerable focus on real estate deals. It follows that she currently desires to explore different types of content, turning outward to other people's stories, at a moment when she states that current political era renders personal narrative redundant.
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, encompassing multiple eras – all unable to escape their pasts. The book includes the story of Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, relocating from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. Additionally the story of Kraus herself, in the guise of Catt Greene, reckoning with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her partner struggling with addiction a man named Paul. And there is the narrative of a homicide of one directionless individual by another in a town largely deserted by forward-thinking policies only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in rural Minnesota.
From my perspective as a reader attracted to polished prose of the sort the author herself typically rejects, I was captivated by the literary tone of the opening part.
As someone who reads who favors crafted language of the kind that the author often disregards, I was won over by the literary tone of the opening segment. It exhibits a new quality of attentiveness that allows space for minutiae, like the pail that the protagonist as a child dislodges from ice at the beginning of the narrative, aided by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he responds, "the elliptical meanings of words circulating in their speech like piece candy". The author narrates Emma's narrative with inquiry and familiarity. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not precisely her dream."
I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this new voice could last out the book. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the enjoyment audiences such as myself have taken from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she shares with her inspiration author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her previous novels comes back in the second segment. Catt is working on refurbishing 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between Minnesota and LA, unsuccessful in assisting Paul manage his alcohol use. She feels helpless as her spouse transitions between low-resource employment as an recovery specialist in a society driven by the anger and fear that powers an electoral success. There are several pages about Catt being cancelled on a platform, her professional designation altered from "author" to "real estate holder" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. On one occasion she remarks that she's investigating the murder so that before departing the state, "she might be able to learn something about an the United States that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would not even perceive".
Then we reach to the homicide in question – and the titular day experienced by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his friends. Kraus has great source material, and details moment by moment what transpired when the victim Brandon came to meet Brittney after connecting via an application where she offered adult photos. He sought a sexual encounter but seems affably to have spent the day with her companions, mooching around getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's boyfriend a man named Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.
Catt gets obsessed by the account, and I found myself captivated by the way that her twin drives towards ethical reporting and daring boundary-pushing clash in this segment. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her individual preoccupations here. The standout figure is Brittney herself, who comes alive partly through Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par
A London-based journalist with a passion for uncovering hidden stories and sharing authentic British experiences.