Exploring The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Explores New Ground

The new book centers on individuals seeking fresh starts, attempting to leave behind drugs or toxic relationships, only to witness hope devolve into aggression. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", rendering it intentionally weary through constant reiteration. Examples include "He aimed to start over" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the story. Meanwhile, Kraus herself seems to be making her individual reinvention, because this appears a new kind of book – observational, authentically narrative. However it turns out to be filled with the recurring issues and styles as her previous works.

From Accidental Writer to Renowned Book

Chris Kraus was originally an creative who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, made up of missives to a distant beloved, converting confessional female writing from abjection into rebellion. She persisted as a writer, but the next trio of fascinating and rebarbative novels missed the impact and rawness that the correspondence format imparted to the tone of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her role as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a extensive real estate holder, so there was much discussion on housing investments. It is logical that she presently aims to try out new kinds of material, directing her gaze to the experiences of others, at a time when she states that Trumpian politics turns intimate literature obsolete.

Three Generations, One Unescapable Past

The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, encompassing three generations – all unable to escape their backgrounds. We encounter the tale of a couple named Emma and Jasper, based on her own mother and father, moving from the New York borough to a pastoral setting. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the guise of Catt Greene, confronting the belated success 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 directionless individual by another in a locality largely deserted by forward-thinking policies only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.

As a reader drawn to polished prose of the kind the author herself tends to eschew, I was seduced by the literary tone of the initial segment.

As someone who reads who appreciates honed writing of the kind that Kraus tends to eschew, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the opening segment. There is a novel degree of detail that allows space for trivial aspects, like the container that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the beginning of the narrative, aided by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a lovely toy", he replies, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". Kraus writes Emma's story with interest and closeness. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not hers, exactly."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this different style could last out the book. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the satisfaction audiences such as myself have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she has in common with her inspiration Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her earlier works returns in the central part. Catt Greene is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in the city's most challenging districts while shuttling between two different states, unsuccessful in assisting Paul manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a world driven by the hostility and dread that drives Trump's victory. Multiple pages are devoted about the protagonist facing cancellation on a platform, her professional designation altered from "writer" to "real estate holder" on a reference site. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she remarks that she's looking into the killing so that before exiting the region, "she may grasp something about an America that her Twitter detractors would not understand, would not even see".

The Killing Story

Thus we arrive to the actual killing – and the referenced day spent by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his friends. The author possesses excellent raw material, and details moment by moment what happened when a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He sought a sexual encounter but appears congenially to have passed the day in the company of her associates, wandering about getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has often been institutionalized for aggressive outbursts.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

Catt develops an obsession by the story, and I was fascinated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards ethical reporting and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her personal fixations here. The most interesting character is the character Brittney, who gains dimension partially because of Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in jail, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels curiously unresolved, to the point that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par

Molly Peters
Molly Peters

Digital marketing strategist with a decade of experience in data-driven campaigns and brand growth.