A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Attempts Something New
The new book is populated with protagonists pursuing clean slates, attempting to leave behind drugs or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into violence. Kraus often employs the phrase "fresh start", making it intentionally weary through constant reiteration. Phrases such as "He aimed to start over" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the story. Meanwhile, Kraus herself appears to be undertaking her individual reinvention, as this seems a different type of work – observational, genuinely novelistic. But then it turns out to be laden with the recurring issues and aesthetics as her previous works.
From Chance Novelist to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus started out as an creative who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, made up of missives to a distant beloved, transforming personal female narrative from abjection into assassination. She kept producing books, but the three subsequent engaging and challenging novels lacked the shock and immediacy that the correspondence format imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a nonconformist creator who had turned into a major property owner, so there was considerable focus on property transactions. It follows that she presently aims to experiment with fresh narrative sources, looking outwards to external narratives, at a period in which she claims that contemporary political climate renders personal narrative redundant.
Three Generations, Collective Unavoidable Background
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, encompassing multiple eras – all unable to escape their backgrounds. We encounter the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, representations of the author's parents, relocating from the New York borough to a pastoral setting. There is the account of Kraus, in the character of a figure named 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 account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a community long abandoned by progressive politics only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in a remote part of Minnesota.
As a reader fond of refined literature of the type Kraus typically rejects, I was captivated by the literary tone of the first section.
As someone who reads who favors precise prose of the variety that Kraus herself often disregards, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the first section. It possesses a fresh level of observation that allows space for minutiae, like the bucket that the protagonist as a child pries out of frozen water at the start of the story, helped by her adored dad. "I found an ice toy!" she says; "a lovely toy", he replies, "the ambiguous meanings of language rolling around in their mouths like hard candy". She tells Emma's story with inquiry and familiarity. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not hers, exactly."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this different style could continue through the novel. The author states here that she resents the satisfaction readers like me have gotten from I Love Dick; she's devoted to fragmentation, to the untidy aesthetics she has in common with her hero author Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her past books returns in the middle section. Catt Greene is working on refurbishing multiple decrepit residences in the city's most challenging districts while shuttling between Minnesota and LA, unable to aid Paul curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as Paul transitions between poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a environment propelled by the anger and fear that powers Trump's victory. A significant portion discusses about the protagonist facing cancellation on a platform, her professional designation altered from "novelist" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she states that she's researching the homicide so that before departing the state, "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
So then we come to the homicide in question – and the titular day experienced by the deceased with the murderer and his friends. Kraus has excellent raw material, and reconstructs step by step what occurred as Brandon came to meet Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but appears congenially to have passed the day in the company of her associates, loitering getting his car mended and paying for snacks and drugs, before being killed by gunfire by her romantic interest Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.
Fascination and Incompletion
Catt develops an obsession by the story, and I found myself captivated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards responsible documentation and reckless transgression tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who gains dimension partially because of Catt seeing herself in her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman derailing in a troubled, forgotten town. The author informs us that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she fails to enact these dialogues. This entire part feels curiously unresolved, to the point that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par