🔗 Share this article Exploring The Four Spent the Day Together by author Chris Kraus – A Renowned Writer Attempts New Ground This latest work is populated with characters pursuing fresh starts, attempting to leave behind drugs or harmful partnerships, only to see hope turn into aggression. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "fresh start", making it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Phrases such as "He could make a fresh start" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the narrative. Meanwhile, the author herself appears to be undertaking her own fresh start, as this appears a different type of work – observational, truly literary. However it turns out to be filled with the same dilemmas and aesthetics as earlier books. From Accidental Writer to Cult Classic The writer started out as an artist who entered the literary world somewhat by chance with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, which was composed of letters to an unreceptive lover, transforming personal female narrative from humiliation into rebellion. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent engaging and challenging novels missed the impact and rawness that the epistolary style brought to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her role as a renegade artist who had evolved into a extensive real estate holder, so there was much discussion on real estate deals. It makes sense that she now wants to try out new kinds of material, looking outwards to the experiences of others, at a moment when she claims that Trumpian politics turns intimate literature unnecessary. Several Eras, Collective Unavoidable Background The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, spanning three generations – none able to break free from their pasts. The book includes the tale of characters Emma and Jasper, based on Kraus's parents, transitioning from the urban environment to rural Connecticut. Additionally the story of Kraus herself, in the guise of protagonist Catt Greene, confronting the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband a man named Paul. Finally the narrative of a homicide of one lost young man by another in a locality long abandoned by progressive politics only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in the Minnesota countryside. From my perspective as a reader attracted to honed writing of the type Kraus often avoids, I was captivated by the narrative style of the initial segment. As someone who reads drawn to precise prose of the kind that the author tends to eschew, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the opening segment. It possesses a fresh level of observation that makes room for minutiae, like the bucket that the young Catt dislodges from ice at the start of the story, helped by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a great plaything", he replies, "the nuanced interpretations of terms circulating in their speech like hard candy". The author narrates the tale of Emma with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not hers, exactly." Disappointment and Disjunction I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this different style could persist to the end. Kraus says here that she resents the enjoyment audiences such as myself have gotten from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she shares with her hero author Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her past books comes back in the second segment. The protagonist is working on refurbishing three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between two different states, failing to help Paul control his drinking. She is overwhelmed as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a world propelled by the hostility and dread that underpins an electoral success. There are several pages about the protagonist facing cancellation on social media, her occupation changed from "novelist" to "property owner" on a reference site. Kraus still seems 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 may grasp something about an the United States that her online critics would be unable to grasp, would not even perceive". The Homicide Account So then we come to the homicide in question – and the eponymous day spent by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his friends. The author possesses compelling foundational content, and knows hour by hour what occurred as Brandon came to meet Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she sold sex pictures. He sought a sexual encounter but appears congenially to have passed the day with her companions, mooching around getting his car mended and funding treats and narcotics, before being murdered by Brittney's boyfriend a man named Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for aggressive outbursts. Obsession and Unfinished Business The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards accurate chronicling and audacious rule-breaking wrestle in this part. Yet I wished her to go further into her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is the character Brittney, who becomes vivid in part due to Catt seeing herself in her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual spiraling out of control in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus tells us that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels oddly unfinished, to the point that her narrative ends almost mid-par