The Four Spent the Day Together features individuals pursuing clean slates, struggling to escape substance abuse or abusive marriages, only to witness hope devolve into aggression. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "clean slate", transforming it into intentionally weary through constant reiteration. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the narrative. At the same time, Kraus herself appears to be undertaking her individual reinvention, since this presents as a novel form of writing – documentarian, genuinely novelistic. Yet it reveals itself to be laden with the familiar conflicts and approaches as her previous works.
From Accidental Writer to Renowned Book
Kraus started out as an visual artist who became a writer unintentionally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, made up of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, elevating intimate women's literature from abjection into assassination. She kept producing books, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels lacked the power and directness that the correspondence format imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a maverick maker who had become a major property owner, so there was much discussion on real estate deals. It makes sense that she presently aims to experiment with new kinds of material, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a moment when she states that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative redundant.
Multiple Generations, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, covering three generations – none able to break free from their histories. We encounter the tale of Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, moving from the Bronx to rural Connecticut. There is the narrative of the author, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, confronting the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her addict husband her husband Paul. Finally the narrative of a homicide of one directionless individual by another in a locality largely deserted by liberal ideals only 80 miles from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.
From my perspective as a reader attracted to refined literature of the sort the author herself often avoids, I was seduced by the narrative style of the opening part.
As a reader who favors honed writing of the kind that Kraus usually avoids, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the initial part. It possesses a fresh level of observation that accommodates trivial aspects, like the bucket that the protagonist as a child pries out of frozen water at the opening of the book, helped by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a great plaything", he responds, "the nuanced interpretations of terms circulating in their speech like piece candy". She tells Emma's story with inquiry and familiarity. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not precisely her dream."
Frustration and Disruption
I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this fresh tone could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she resents the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disruption, to the untidy aesthetics she shares with her hero author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her previous novels comes back in the middle section. Catt Greene is attempting to do up multiple decrepit residences in the city's most challenging districts while moving between two different states, unable to aid her husband curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as Paul moves between low-resource employment as an substance abuse counselor in a environment propelled by the hostility and dread that powers an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on Twitter, her professional designation altered from "author" to "real estate holder" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. At one point 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 Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would overlook entirely".
The Homicide Account
Then we reach to the homicide in question – and the titular day passed by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his associates. Kraus utilizes great source material, and knows hour by hour what transpired when Brandon came to see Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she offered adult photos. He was hoping for sex but seems amiably to have occupied the day in the company of her associates, loitering getting his car mended and paying for snacks and drugs, before being shot by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for fits of anger.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
The protagonist becomes fixated by the narrative, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards ethical reporting and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her personal fixations here. The most interesting character is Brittney herself, who gains dimension partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual spiraling out of control in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she fails to enact these dialogues. This entire part feels strangely incomplete, to the point that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par
