A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together by author Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Explores Something New
This latest work is populated with protagonists chasing after new beginnings, attempting to leave behind drugs or abusive marriages, only to witness hope devolve into violence. The author frequently uses the phrase "fresh start", rendering it willfully cynical through its repetitions. Sentences like "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They chose to begin anew" recur in the story. Meanwhile, the author herself is embarking on her individual reinvention, because this appears a novel form of writing – documentarian, truly literary. But then it proves to be packed with the same dilemmas and styles as past novels.
From Chance Novelist to Cult Classic
Kraus was originally an visual artist who became a writer almost accidentally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, elevating personal female narrative from self-debasement into rebellion. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent fascinating and rebarbative novels missed the power and directness that the correspondence format infused into the voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a renegade artist who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on real estate deals. It makes sense that she currently desires to explore fresh narrative sources, directing her gaze to the experiences of others, at a time when she claims that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative unnecessary.
Three Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, covering several time periods – none able to break free from their histories. We encounter the story of Emma and Jasper, representations of her own mother and father, moving from the urban environment to rural Connecticut. There is the story of Kraus herself, in the guise of a figure named Catt Greene, reckoning with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her partner struggling with addiction Paul. And there is the story of the murder of one troubled youth by another in a community long abandoned by progressive politics only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in the Minnesota countryside.
As a reader attracted to honed writing of the type Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was enchanted by the literary tone of the opening part.
As someone who reads drawn to precise prose of the style that the author tends to eschew, I was won over by the literary tone of the opening segment. There is a fresh level of observation that accommodates minutiae, like the pail that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the opening of the book, assisted by her adored dad. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she says; "a nice toy", he replies, "the nuanced interpretations of terms circulating in their speech like sweet treats". The author narrates the tale of Emma with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not precisely her dream."
Frustration and Disruption
I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this fresh tone could last out the book. Kraus says here that she is annoyed by the enjoyment those who appreciate polished prose have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the unpolished style she shares with her hero Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her past books reasserts itself in the middle section. Catt is working on refurbishing three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between Minnesota and LA, unable to aid her husband control his drinking. She feels helpless as Paul moves between poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a environment driven by the rage and anxiety that drives Trump's victory. A significant portion discusses about the protagonist facing cancellation on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "novelist" to "landlord" on Wikipedia. She still gives the impression to be overly concerned about this. On one occasion she says that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she might be able to learn something about an the United States that her online critics would not understand, would overlook entirely".
The Murder Narrative
So then we come to the murder itself – and the referenced day experienced by the victim with the perpetrator and his companions. Kraus has great source material, and knows hour by hour what happened when Brandon came to meet Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she sold sex pictures. He sought a sexual encounter but appears congenially to have passed the day in the company of her associates, loitering fixing his automobile and funding treats and narcotics, before being shot by Brittney's partner a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has frequently been hospitalised for violent rage.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. Yet I wished her to go further into her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney herself, who comes alive in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par