This latest work features individuals seeking fresh starts, attempting to leave behind substance abuse or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into aggression. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", making it willfully cynical through its repetitions. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" recur in the story. And yet, the author herself appears to be undertaking her individual reinvention, as this presents as a novel form of writing – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. Yet it turns out to be packed with the recurring issues and aesthetics as earlier books.
The writer began as an artist who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, made up of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, elevating intimate women's literature from abjection into rebellion. She continued writing, but the three subsequent fascinating and rebarbative novels did not possess the shock and immediacy that the correspondence format infused into the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her identity as a maverick maker who had evolved into a major property owner, so there was much discussion on real estate deals. It is logical that she currently desires to experiment with different types of content, looking outwards to the experiences of others, at a period in which she asserts that current political era turns intimate literature obsolete.
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, encompassing several time periods – each trapped by their pasts. The book includes the narrative about Emma and Jasper, based on Kraus's parents, moving from the New York borough to a pastoral setting. There is the narrative of the author, in the guise of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband a man named Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a locality long abandoned by progressive politics only a short distance from Catt's cottage in rural Minnesota.
As a reader drawn to honed writing of the sort Kraus typically rejects, I was captivated by the literary tone of the first section.
Being a reader who favors precise prose of the kind that Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was won over by the literary tone of the opening segment. It possesses a novel degree of detail that accommodates minutiae, like the container that the protagonist as a child pries out of frozen water at the start of the story, helped by her adored dad. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she declares; "a great plaything", he replies, "the ambiguous meanings of language rolling around in their mouths like piece candy". She tells the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not entirely her own."
I was fated to feel let down when I hoped this new voice could continue through the novel. Kraus says here that she is annoyed by the pleasure readers like me have gotten from I Love Dick; she's committed to fragmentation, to the unpolished style she has in common with her hero writer Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her earlier works reasserts itself in the central part. The protagonist is trying to renovate three dozen dilapidated units in the city's most challenging districts while shuttling between Minnesota and LA, unsuccessful in assisting Paul curb his addiction. She feels helpless as Paul moves between underfunded jobs as an addiction therapist in a world fueled by the hostility and dread that drives an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about the protagonist facing cancellation on social media, her listed profession modified from "novelist" to "property owner" on a reference site. The author still appears to be overly concerned about this. In a moment she remarks that she's investigating the murder so that before leaving Minnesota, "she could potentially understand something about an the nation that her Twitter detractors would be unable to grasp, would not even perceive".
Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the referenced day passed by the murdered individual with the killer and his companions. The author possesses compelling foundational content, and knows hour by hour what happened when Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He sought a sexual encounter but seems amiably to have occupied the day alongside her friends, mooching around having his vehicle repaired and paying for snacks and drugs, before being killed by gunfire by her romantic interest Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for violent rage.
The protagonist becomes fixated by the narrative, and I found myself captivated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards responsible documentation and reckless transgression tussle in this section. However, I would have preferred her to explore more thoroughly her own obsessions here. The most interesting character is the character Brittney, who comes alive partly through Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman going off the rails in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in detention, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par
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