The new book is populated with protagonists seeking new beginnings, trying to break free from addictions or harmful partnerships, only to find hope curdling into aggression. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "clean slate", transforming it into intentionally weary through its repetitions. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" recur in the story. Meanwhile, the author herself seems to be making her personal new beginning, because this presents as a different type of work – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. But then it turns out to be packed with the same dilemmas and aesthetics as her previous works.
From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus began as an artist who transitioned to writing somewhat by chance with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, elevating confessional female writing from self-debasement into assassination. She continued writing, but the following three compelling and abrasive novels missed the shock and immediacy that the letter form infused into the voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her role as a nonconformist creator who had become a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on property transactions. It makes sense that she now wants to try out fresh narrative sources, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a time when she claims that Trumpian politics turns intimate literature redundant.
Several Eras, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, covering several time periods – each trapped by their backgrounds. There is the tale of Emma and Jasper, representations of her own mother and father, relocating from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. Additionally the story of Kraus herself, in the character of Catt Greene, reckoning with the belated success of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her addict husband Paul. And there is the story of the murder of one directionless individual by another in a community long abandoned by forward-thinking policies only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.
From my perspective as a reader fond of honed writing of the type Kraus tends to eschew, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the initial segment.
As a reader who favors crafted language of the variety that Kraus tends to eschew, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the first section. It possesses a fresh level of observation that allows space for trivial aspects, like the container that the protagonist as a child frees from the ice at the beginning of the narrative, aided by her beloved father. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she says; "a nice toy", he answers, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". Kraus writes Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not hers, exactly."
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 readers like me have gotten from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she echoes from her idol writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her past books returns in the second segment. Catt Greene is trying to renovate three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting her husband manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as Paul transitions between poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a society driven by the anger and fear that drives an electoral success. Multiple pages are devoted about the protagonist facing cancellation on a platform, her listed profession modified from "author" to "real estate holder" on a reference site. The author still appears to be overly concerned about this. On one occasion she remarks that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she might be able to learn something about an the United States that her social media opponents would fail to comprehend, would not even see".
The Homicide Account
Then we reach to the actual killing – and the referenced day spent by the murdered individual with the murderer and his associates. Kraus has great source material, and details moment by moment what transpired when Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she offered adult photos. He was hoping for sex but seems amiably to have occupied the day alongside her friends, mooching around fixing his automobile and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has frequently been hospitalised for violent rage.
Fascination and Incompletion
Catt gets obsessed by the narrative, and I was intrigued by the way that her twin drives towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to explore more thoroughly her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is Brittney, who comes alive partially because of Catt's identification with her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual going off the rails in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. This entire part feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par
