The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with protagonists pursuing new beginnings, attempting to leave behind substance abuse or abusive marriages, only to witness hope devolve into aggression. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "clean slate", rendering it deliberately jaded through its repetitions. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the narrative. At the same time, the author herself seems to be making her own fresh start, as this seems a different type of work – documentarian, truly literary. But then it turns out to be filled with the familiar conflicts and approaches as her previous works.
From Unplanned Author to Cult Classic
The writer started out as an visual artist who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, which was composed of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, transforming confessional female writing from abjection into defiance. She continued writing, but the following three compelling and abrasive novels missed the power and directness that the correspondence format brought to the voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her role as a renegade artist who had turned into a major property owner, so there was significant attention on housing investments. It follows that she now wants to experiment with new kinds of material, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a time when she asserts that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative unnecessary.
Multiple Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning multiple eras – each trapped by their pasts. We encounter the tale of characters Emma and Jasper, representations of her own mother and father, transitioning from the urban environment to rural Connecticut. There is the narrative of the author, in the guise of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the belated success of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her partner struggling with addiction a man named Paul. The third thread involves the story of the murder of one troubled youth by another in a community mostly forsaken by forward-thinking policies only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in rural Minnesota.
For this reader fond of polished prose of the sort Kraus herself often avoids, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the first section.
Being a reader who appreciates crafted language of the kind that Kraus herself often disregards, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the opening segment. It exhibits a new quality of attentiveness that allows space for small details, like the pail that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the beginning of the narrative, assisted by her cherished parent. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she says; "a great plaything", he responds, "the ambiguous meanings of language circulating in their speech like piece candy". She tells Emma's narrative with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not hers, exactly."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was fated to feel let down when I expected this different style could continue through the novel. The author states here that she is annoyed by the enjoyment audiences such as myself have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disruption, to the unpolished style she has in common with her idol writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her earlier works comes back in the central part. Catt is working on refurbishing multiple decrepit residences in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between Minnesota and LA, failing to help Paul curb his addiction. She feels helpless as Paul transitions between low-resource employment as an substance abuse counselor in a environment fueled by the rage and anxiety that drives an electoral success. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her professional designation altered from "novelist" to "property owner" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to care a little too much about this. In a moment she states that she's investigating the murder so that before exiting the region, "she might be able to learn something about an the United States that her Twitter detractors would be unable to grasp, would not even see".
The Murder Narrative
So then we come to the homicide in question – and the titular day passed by the victim with the killer and his friends. Kraus has excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what occurred as the victim Brandon came to visit Brittney after connecting via an application where she offered adult photos. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, wandering about having his vehicle repaired and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by her romantic interest Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for violent rage.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
Catt develops an obsession by the story, 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 gains dimension partially because of Catt seeing herself in her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in jail, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels strangely incomplete, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par
