A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – An Iconic Writer Ventures Into Fresh Territory
The new book features protagonists pursuing new beginnings, attempting to leave behind addictions or harmful partnerships, only to find hope curdling into aggression. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", transforming it into willfully cynical through constant reiteration. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They chose to begin anew" appear throughout the narrative. Meanwhile, Kraus herself seems to be making her personal new beginning, since this appears a new kind of book – fact-based, authentically narrative. But then it proves to be packed with the familiar conflicts and approaches as earlier books.
From Accidental Writer to Cult Classic
The writer started out as an artist who transitioned to writing unintentionally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, which was composed of letters to an unreceptive lover, converting confessional female writing from humiliation into rebellion. She kept producing books, but the three subsequent engaging and challenging novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the letter form imparted to the tone of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her role as a nonconformist creator who had become a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on property transactions. It follows that she currently desires to experiment with different types of content, turning outward to external narratives, at a moment when she states that Trumpian politics makes confessional writing unnecessary.
Three Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning several time periods – all unable to escape their backgrounds. We encounter the narrative about characters Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, moving from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. There is the story of Kraus herself, in the guise of protagonist Catt Greene, confronting the belated success of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse Paul. The third thread involves the narrative of a homicide of one lost young man by another in a locality largely deserted by progressive politics only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in rural Minnesota.
For this reader fond of polished prose of the kind Kraus tends to eschew, I was captivated by the literary tone of the initial segment.
Being a reader who favors crafted language of the kind that Kraus often disregards, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the opening segment. It possesses a fresh level of observation that makes room for minutiae, like the container that the protagonist as a child dislodges from ice at the start of the story, assisted by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a great plaything", he responds, "the nuanced interpretations of terms circulating in their speech like sweet treats". The author narrates Emma's narrative with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was destined to be disappointed when I wished this new voice could persist to the end. The author states here that she resents the pleasure readers like me have gotten from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disjunction, to the messy artistic approach she shares with her inspiration writer Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books returns in the central part. Catt Greene is attempting to do up 36 run-down apartments in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while moving between Minnesota and LA, failing to help her husband manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as Paul transitions between underfunded jobs as an addiction therapist in a world propelled by the anger and fear that underpins an electoral success. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt being cancelled on a platform, her occupation changed from "author" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to be overly concerned about this. At one point she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she might be able to learn something about an America that her social media opponents would not understand, would overlook entirely".
The Killing Story
Then we reach to the actual killing – and the titular day experienced by the deceased with the perpetrator and his companions. Kraus utilizes compelling foundational content, and details moment by moment what transpired when the victim Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she offered adult photos. He was hoping for sex 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 shot by her romantic interest Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has often been institutionalized for aggressive outbursts.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
The protagonist becomes fixated by the narrative, and I was intrigued by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards accurate chronicling and audacious rule-breaking clash in this segment. But I'd have liked her to go further into her individual preoccupations here. The compelling persona is Brittney herself, who gains dimension partially because of Catt's identification with her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus tells us that Catt converses with Brittney in prison, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The whole section feels curiously unresolved, to the degree that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par