A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – A Renowned Writer Ventures Into Fresh Territory
The Four Spent the Day Together features individuals seeking fresh starts, trying to break free from addictions or abusive marriages, only to see hope turn into aggression. Kraus frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", rendering it willfully cynical through recurring use. Phrases such as "He aimed to start over" and "They chose to begin anew" appear throughout the narrative. And yet, the author herself is embarking on her personal new beginning, because this seems a different type of work – observational, truly literary. However it turns out to be filled with the same dilemmas and aesthetics as past novels.
From Accidental Writer to Cult Classic
Chris Kraus started out as an visual artist who became a writer unintentionally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, which was composed of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, elevating personal female narrative from self-debasement into rebellion. She kept producing books, but the following three fascinating and rebarbative novels missed the shock and immediacy that the letter form imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her role as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a major property owner, so there was considerable focus on real estate deals. It makes sense that she presently aims to experiment with different types of content, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a period in which she asserts that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative unnecessary.
Three Generations, 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 tale of a couple named Emma and Jasper, representations of the author's parents, transitioning from the urban environment to a pastoral setting. Additionally the narrative of the author, in the persona of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction her husband Paul. And there is the story of the murder of one troubled youth by another in a town largely deserted by progressive politics only a short distance from the protagonist's home in the Minnesota countryside.
From my perspective as a reader fond of honed writing of the type Kraus typically rejects, I was seduced by the literary tone of the opening part.
As a reader who appreciates honed writing of the style that Kraus herself often disregards, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the initial part. It exhibits a new quality of attentiveness that makes room for small details, like the bucket that the youthful Catt frees from the ice at the start of the story, helped by her beloved father. "I found an ice toy!" she declares; "a nice toy", he responds, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". The author narrates Emma's narrative with curiosity and intimacy. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not hers, exactly."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this new voice could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she dislikes the pleasure audiences such as myself have derived from I Love Dick; she's devoted to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her idol author Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her earlier works comes back in the central part. Catt Greene is working on refurbishing 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between Minnesota and LA, unsuccessful in assisting Paul manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as Paul transitions between underfunded jobs as an recovery specialist in a society fueled by the hostility and dread that powers an electoral success. There are several pages about the protagonist facing cancellation on social media, her listed profession modified from "author" to "landlord" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to be overly concerned about this. At one point she says that she's investigating the murder so that before departing the state, "she may grasp something about an the United States that her online critics would be unable to grasp, would not even perceive".
The Homicide Account
Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the eponymous day experienced by the deceased with the murderer and his associates. Kraus has great source material, and knows hour by hour what happened when the victim Brandon came to meet Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He anticipated intimacy but appears congenially to have passed the day in the company of her associates, wandering about fixing his automobile and paying for snacks and drugs, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's partner a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has frequently been hospitalised for aggressive outbursts.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
Catt gets obsessed by the narrative, and I was fascinated by the way that her twin drives towards ethical reporting and reckless transgression wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to go further into her own obsessions here. The most interesting character is Brittney herself, who comes alive partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in detention, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. This entire part feels oddly unfinished, to the degree that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par