The new book is populated with characters seeking clean slates, attempting to leave behind addictions or toxic relationships, only to find hope curdling into violence. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", transforming it into deliberately jaded through recurring use. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They chose to begin anew" appear throughout the text. Meanwhile, Kraus herself is embarking on her own fresh start, as this presents as a different type of work – observational, genuinely novelistic. But then it turns out to be filled with the same dilemmas and aesthetics as earlier books.
From Chance Novelist to Cult Classic
Chris Kraus started out as an artist who transitioned to writing somewhat by chance with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, made up of letters to an unreceptive lover, converting confessional female writing from self-debasement into rebellion. She persisted as a writer, but the next trio of fascinating and rebarbative novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the correspondence format imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a renegade artist who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It makes sense that she currently desires to explore fresh narrative sources, looking outwards to other people's stories, at a time when she asserts that contemporary political climate turns intimate literature unnecessary.
Several Eras, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, encompassing three generations – each trapped by their backgrounds. We encounter the tale of characters Emma and Jasper, representations of the author's parents, moving from the urban environment to rural Connecticut. There is the narrative of the author, in the persona of a figure named Catt Greene, confronting the belated success of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband her husband Paul. And there is the story of the murder of one lost young man by another in a town largely deserted by progressive politics only a brief drive from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.
For this reader fond of honed writing of the type the author herself tends to eschew, I was captivated by the narrative style of the opening part.
Being a reader drawn to precise prose of the style that Kraus usually avoids, I was won over by the literary tone of the first section. There is a new quality of attentiveness that allows space for minutiae, like the bucket that the protagonist as a child dislodges from ice at the start of the story, aided by her beloved father. "I found an ice toy!" she says; "a nice toy", he answers, "the ambiguous meanings of language circulating in their speech like piece candy". She tells the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was fated to feel let down when I hoped this different style could continue through the novel. Kraus says here that she dislikes the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have derived from I Love Dick; she's committed to fragmentation, to the unpolished style she shares with her idol writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her past books returns in the middle section. Catt is trying to renovate three dozen dilapidated units in the city's most challenging districts while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting her husband curb his addiction. She feels helpless as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a environment driven by the anger and fear that drives a political win. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on Twitter, her occupation changed from "novelist" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. She still gives the impression to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she says that she's investigating the murder so that before exiting the region, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her Twitter detractors would be unable to grasp, would overlook entirely".
The Homicide Account
So then we come to the murder itself – and the eponymous day spent by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his associates. The author possesses excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what happened when Brandon came to meet Brittney after meeting her on an app where she offered adult photos. He anticipated intimacy but seems affably to have spent the day alongside her friends, loitering getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by her romantic interest Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has repeatedly received inpatient care for violent rage.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
The protagonist becomes fixated by the story, and I found myself captivated by the way that her twin drives towards responsible documentation and reckless transgression wrestle in this part. Yet I wished her to delve deeper into her individual preoccupations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who comes alive partially because of Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The whole section feels strangely incomplete, to the point that her narrative ends almost mid-par
