The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – A Renowned Writer Attempts Fresh Territory
This latest work features protagonists chasing after new beginnings, trying to break free from drugs or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into violence. Chris Kraus often employs the phrase "fresh start", making it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Sentences like "He aimed to start over" 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 novel form of writing – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. But then it reveals itself to be laden with the recurring issues and styles as past novels.
From Unplanned Author to Renowned Book
The writer started out as an artist who transitioned to writing unintentionally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, made up of letters to an unreceptive lover, converting intimate women's literature from self-debasement into assassination. She kept producing books, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels missed the power and directness that the correspondence format imparted to the tone of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a nonconformist creator who had become a extensive real estate holder, so there was much discussion on housing investments. It makes sense that she presently aims to explore new kinds of material, directing her gaze to other people's stories, at a period in which she claims that current political era turns intimate literature unnecessary.
Three Generations, Collective Unavoidable Background
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, spanning three generations – none able to break free from their pasts. We encounter the story of characters Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, moving from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. Additionally the narrative of the author, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction a man named Paul. And there is the narrative of a homicide of one lost young man by another in a town mostly forsaken by progressive politics only a short distance from the protagonist's home in rural Minnesota.
For this reader drawn to polished prose of the type Kraus tends to eschew, I was captivated by the narrative style of the initial segment.
Being a reader who favors crafted language of the variety that the author usually avoids, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the opening segment. It possesses a fresh level of observation that makes room for minutiae, like the container that the youthful Catt pries out of frozen water at the opening of the book, assisted by her beloved father. "I found an ice toy!" she says; "a lovely toy", he replies, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". She tells Emma's story with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not hers, exactly."
Frustration and Disruption
I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this fresh tone could persist to the end. Kraus says here that she is annoyed by the enjoyment those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to fragmentation, to the untidy aesthetics she echoes from her hero writer Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books comes back in the second segment. Catt Greene is trying to renovate three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between the Midwest and the West Coast, failing to help her husband manage his alcohol use. She feels helpless as her spouse transitions between underfunded jobs as an recovery specialist in a environment driven by the rage and anxiety that drives a political win. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her professional designation altered from "writer" to "landlord" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to care a little too much about this. In a moment she states that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she might be able to learn something about an America that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would not even see".
The Killing Story
So then we come to the murder itself – and the referenced day passed by the deceased with the murderer and his companions. Kraus has excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what transpired when the victim Brandon came to meet Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but seems affably to have spent the day alongside her friends, mooching around having his vehicle repaired and funding treats and narcotics, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has often been institutionalized for aggressive outbursts.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt gets obsessed by the story, and I was fascinated by the way that her twin drives towards accurate chronicling and reckless transgression wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is Brittney, who becomes vivid partially because of Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus tells us that Catt speaks to Brittney in jail, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels oddly unfinished, to the degree that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par