Exploring The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Ventures Into New Ground
The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with characters seeking clean slates, attempting to leave behind substance abuse or abusive marriages, only to witness hope devolve into aggression. The author frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", transforming it into intentionally weary through recurring use. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" appear throughout the text. And yet, Kraus herself appears to be undertaking her individual reinvention, because this presents as a novel form of writing – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. Yet it turns out to be packed with the familiar conflicts and aesthetics as past novels.
From Accidental Writer to Cult Classic
Kraus was originally an artist who became a writer almost accidentally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as epistles to an unresponsive love interest, converting intimate women's literature from abjection into assassination. She continued writing, but the next trio of engaging and challenging novels lacked the shock and immediacy that the correspondence format infused into 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 significant attention on property transactions. It follows that she presently aims to experiment with fresh narrative sources, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a period in which she states that contemporary political climate renders personal narrative obsolete.
Three Generations, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, covering several time periods – each trapped by their pasts. The book includes the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of her own mother and father, transitioning from the urban environment to rural Connecticut. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of a figure named Catt Greene, reckoning with the belated success of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one troubled youth by another in a locality largely deserted by liberal ideals only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.
As a reader attracted to polished prose of the sort Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was enchanted by the literary tone of the opening part.
As someone who reads who favors crafted language of the variety that Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the initial part. It possesses a novel degree of detail that accommodates small details, like the container that the protagonist as a child frees from the ice at the start of the story, helped by her beloved father. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he replies, "the elliptical meanings of words rolling around in their mouths like sweet treats". The author narrates Emma's story with inquiry and familiarity. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not hers, exactly."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this different style could last out the book. Kraus notes here that she resents the pleasure audiences such as myself have derived from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the messy artistic approach she has in common with her inspiration author Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her earlier works comes back in the central part. The protagonist is working on refurbishing multiple decrepit residences in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while traveling between two different states, unable to aid Paul control his drinking. She feels helpless as Paul moves between low-resource employment as an addiction therapist in a world driven by the rage and anxiety that underpins an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about the protagonist facing cancellation on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "author" to "property owner" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she states that she's looking into the killing so that before exiting the region, "she may grasp something about an the nation that her social media opponents would fail to comprehend, would overlook entirely".
The Murder Narrative
Then we reach to the actual killing – and the referenced day experienced by the victim with the killer and his friends. Kraus utilizes excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what happened when a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day in the company of her associates, mooching around getting his car mended and funding treats and narcotics, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend a man named Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.
Fascination and Incompletion
Catt develops an obsession by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards ethical reporting and reckless transgression clash in this segment. Yet I wished her to explore more thoroughly her own obsessions here. The most interesting character is Brittney, who becomes vivid partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman going off the rails in a difficult, overlooked locality. The author informs us that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the point that her narrative ends almost mid-par