A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Ventures Into Something New
The new book features individuals pursuing clean slates, trying to break free from drugs or toxic relationships, only to see hope turn into violence. The author repeatedly invokes the phrase "fresh start", rendering it willfully cynical through constant reiteration. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They chose to begin anew" recur in the narrative. And yet, Kraus herself is embarking on her individual reinvention, as this presents as a novel form of writing – observational, authentically narrative. However it reveals itself to be packed with the recurring issues and styles as earlier books.
From Unplanned Author to Cult Classic
Chris Kraus was originally an visual artist who entered the literary world almost accidentally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, which was composed of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, elevating intimate women's literature from self-debasement into defiance. She persisted as a writer, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the epistolary style infused into the narrative voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her role as a maverick maker who had turned into a major property owner, so there was significant attention on housing investments. It is logical that she now wants to experiment with new kinds of material, turning outward to other people's stories, at a period in which she states that current political era turns intimate literature obsolete.
Several Eras, Collective Unavoidable Background
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning multiple eras – all unable to escape their backgrounds. We encounter the tale of a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, moving from the urban environment to the Connecticut countryside. Additionally the account of Kraus, in the guise of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction Paul. The third thread involves the account of a killing of one troubled youth by another in a community mostly forsaken by progressive politics only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in rural Minnesota.
From my perspective as a reader drawn to refined literature of the type Kraus herself often avoids, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the first section.
As someone who reads drawn to precise prose of the kind that the author often disregards, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the opening segment. 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 beginning of the narrative, assisted by her beloved father. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a nice toy", he responds, "the elliptical meanings of words rolling around in their mouths like hard candy". Kraus writes Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not entirely her own."
Frustration and Disruption
I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this new voice could last out the book. Kraus says here that she resents the pleasure audiences such as myself have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to disruption, to the unpolished style she shares with her inspiration Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her past books returns in the second segment. Catt is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, unable to aid Paul control his drinking. She experiences powerlessness as her spouse moves between underfunded jobs as an substance abuse counselor in a society propelled by the anger and fear that underpins an electoral success. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "author" to "landlord" on a reference site. The author still appears to invest excessive emotion about this. On one occasion she states that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she may grasp something about an America that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would not even perceive".
The Homicide Account
Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the titular day passed by the victim with the perpetrator and his associates. Kraus has excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what happened when a man named Brandon came to visit Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He sought a sexual encounter but seems affably to have spent the day with her companions, wandering about getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by her romantic interest Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has frequently been hospitalised for aggressive outbursts.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
The protagonist becomes fixated by the story, and I was fascinated by the way that her twin drives towards accurate chronicling and daring boundary-pushing 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 seeing herself in her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman going off the rails in a struggling, neglected community. The author informs us that Catt speaks to Brittney in jail, but she fails to enact these dialogues. This entire part feels strangely incomplete, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par