The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Ventures Into New Ground

This latest work centers on protagonists seeking new beginnings, attempting to leave behind addictions or harmful partnerships, only to find hope curdling into aggression. Kraus often employs the phrase "new beginning", rendering it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the narrative. And yet, the author herself seems to be making her individual reinvention, as this presents as a different type of work – observational, authentically narrative. Yet it reveals itself to be packed with the same dilemmas and styles as her previous works.

From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work

Kraus was originally an creative who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, which was composed of letters to an unreceptive lover, converting confessional female writing from humiliation into rebellion. She continued writing, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels missed the impact and rawness that the epistolary style imparted to the voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her role as a maverick maker who had evolved into a extensive real estate holder, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It is logical that she currently desires to try out new kinds of material, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a moment when she states that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative redundant.

Multiple Generations, Shared Inescapable History

The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, encompassing multiple eras – each trapped by their pasts. There is the tale of Emma and Jasper, based on the author's parents, transitioning from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. Additionally the story of Kraus herself, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, confronting the belated success of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction a man named Paul. The third thread involves the narrative of a homicide of one lost young man by another in a locality mostly forsaken by liberal ideals only a short distance from the protagonist's home in the Minnesota countryside.

From my perspective as a reader fond of refined literature of the type Kraus often avoids, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the opening part.

Being a reader who favors crafted language of the style that Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the initial part. It possesses a novel degree of detail that allows space for minutiae, like the container that the young Catt dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, helped by her cherished parent. "I found an ice toy!" she says; "a lovely toy", he replies, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". Kraus writes Emma's narrative with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not entirely her own."

Letdown and Fragmentation

I was destined to be disappointed when I expected this fresh tone could last out the book. Kraus notes here that she dislikes the enjoyment audiences such as myself have taken from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disruption, to the untidy aesthetics she has in common with her inspiration author Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her previous novels reasserts itself in the central part. The protagonist is attempting to do up multiple decrepit residences in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between the Midwest and the West Coast, unable to aid her husband manage his alcohol use. She is overwhelmed as her spouse cycles through poorly supported positions as an recovery specialist in a society fueled by the anger and fear that drives Trump's victory. There are several pages about the protagonist facing cancellation on social media, her listed profession modified from "novelist" to "landlord" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to care a little too much about this. At one point she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she could potentially understand something about an the nation that her social media opponents would not understand, would overlook entirely".

The Homicide Account

Then we reach to the murder itself – and the titular day spent by the murdered individual with the murderer and his friends. Kraus has excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what happened when a man named Brandon came to meet Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but seems affably to have spent the day in the company of her associates, loitering getting his car mended and funding treats and narcotics, before being shot by Brittney's partner a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has often been institutionalized for fits of anger.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I found myself captivated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards ethical reporting and reckless transgression clash in this segment. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her individual preoccupations here. The most interesting character is the character Brittney, who becomes vivid partially because of Catt seeing herself in her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual going off the rails in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the degree that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par

Connie Perry
Connie Perry

A passionate game designer and critic with over a decade of experience in the tabletop industry, specializing in strategy games and RPG mechanics.