A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Explores Something New
The Four Spent the Day Together centers on protagonists pursuing clean slates, attempting to leave behind drugs or toxic relationships, only to witness hope devolve into aggression. Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "fresh start", transforming it into deliberately jaded through constant reiteration. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They chose to begin anew" appear throughout the story. Meanwhile, Kraus herself seems to be making her personal new beginning, because this presents as a different type of work – documentarian, authentically narrative. But then it proves to be laden with the same dilemmas and styles as earlier books.
From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus was originally an artist who entered the literary world unintentionally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, transforming intimate women's literature from humiliation into rebellion. She persisted as a writer, but the following three fascinating and rebarbative novels missed the power and directness that the letter form brought to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a maverick maker who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was much discussion on housing investments. It makes sense that she currently desires to try out different types of content, looking outwards to the experiences of others, at a moment when she states that Trumpian politics makes confessional writing unnecessary.
Multiple Generations, Collective Unavoidable Background
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, encompassing several time periods – none able to break free from their pasts. The book includes the tale of Emma and Jasper, representations of her own mother and father, transitioning from the New York borough to the Connecticut countryside. There is the story of Kraus herself, in the guise of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the belated success of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her addict husband a man named Paul. The third thread involves the narrative of a homicide of one directionless individual by another in a town mostly forsaken by liberal ideals only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in the Minnesota countryside.
For this reader drawn to polished prose of the kind Kraus herself typically rejects, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the initial segment.
Being a reader drawn to precise prose of the style that the author often disregards, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the initial part. It possesses a new quality of attentiveness that accommodates minutiae, like the bucket that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the start of the story, aided by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a lovely toy", he responds, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". She tells Emma's narrative with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was fated to feel let down when I hoped this fresh tone could persist to the end. Kraus says here that she dislikes the pleasure audiences such as myself have derived from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she shares with her hero Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her earlier works comes back in the central part. The protagonist is working on refurbishing three dozen dilapidated units in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while moving between Minnesota and LA, unsuccessful in assisting Paul manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as her spouse transitions between poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a environment propelled by the anger and fear that underpins a political win. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "novelist" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. In a moment she states that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she might be able to learn something about an the United States that her social media opponents would be unable to grasp, would not even perceive".
The Homicide Account
Thus we arrive to the actual killing – and the titular day passed by the deceased with the murderer and his companions. Kraus has great source material, and knows hour by hour what happened when the victim Brandon came to visit Brittney after meeting her on an app where she sold sex pictures. He was hoping for sex but appears congenially to have passed the day in the company of her associates, mooching around having his vehicle repaired and paying for snacks and drugs, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's partner Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.
Fascination and Incompletion
Catt gets obsessed by the narrative, and I was fascinated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards accurate chronicling and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to explore more thoroughly her individual preoccupations here. The compelling persona is Brittney, who gains dimension partially because of Catt seeing herself in her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a struggling, neglected community. The author informs us that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels curiously unresolved, to the point that her narrative ends almost mid-par