The Four Spent the Day Together by author Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Ventures Into Fresh Territory
The new book is populated with individuals pursuing fresh starts, attempting to leave behind addictions or abusive marriages, only to see hope turn into conflict. Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "fresh start", transforming it into deliberately jaded through constant reiteration. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the text. And yet, the author herself appears to be undertaking her own fresh start, since this seems a novel form of writing – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. Yet it proves to be packed with the familiar conflicts and approaches as her previous works.
From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus began as an artist who entered the literary world somewhat by chance with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, transforming intimate women's literature from self-debasement into rebellion. She continued writing, but the following three compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the power and directness that the correspondence format infused into the 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 much discussion on property transactions. It is logical that she now wants to try out new kinds of material, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a period in which she claims that contemporary political climate turns intimate literature redundant.
Several Eras, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, encompassing several time periods – each trapped by their histories. The book includes the story of a couple named Emma and Jasper, based on her own mother and father, transitioning from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. There is the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of protagonist Catt Greene, reckoning with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction a man named Paul. Finally the narrative of a homicide of one lost young man by another in a town largely deserted by progressive politics only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in rural Minnesota.
For this reader attracted to polished prose of the sort Kraus typically rejects, I was enchanted by the literary tone of the first section.
Being a reader who favors crafted language of the style that the author tends to eschew, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the initial part. There is a fresh level of observation that makes room for minutiae, like the bucket that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the beginning of the narrative, assisted by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a nice toy", he responds, "the nuanced interpretations of terms rolling around in their mouths like sweet treats". She tells Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this different style could last out the book. Kraus says here that she resents the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have gotten from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disjunction, to the unpolished style she has in common with her inspiration writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her previous novels reasserts itself in the central part. Catt is working on refurbishing multiple decrepit residences in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between two different states, unsuccessful in assisting her husband curb his addiction. She is overwhelmed as Paul transitions between underfunded jobs as an recovery specialist in a world driven by the hostility and dread that powers an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on Twitter, her occupation changed from "author" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. In a moment she remarks that she's looking into the killing so that before exiting the region, "she might be able to learn something about an the nation that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would not even see".
The Murder Narrative
Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the referenced day spent by the victim with the perpetrator and his companions. Kraus utilizes great source material, and knows hour by hour what transpired when the victim Brandon came to meet Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but appears congenially to have passed the day in the company of her associates, mooching around having his vehicle repaired and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by her romantic interest Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has often been institutionalized for fits of anger.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
The protagonist becomes fixated by the story, and I found myself captivated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards ethical reporting and reckless transgression wrestle in this part. Yet I wished her to explore more thoroughly her individual preoccupations here. The compelling persona is the character Brittney, who comes alive 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 jail, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels strangely incomplete, to the extent that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par