The new book features characters seeking fresh starts, trying to break free from drugs or harmful partnerships, only to find hope curdling into conflict. Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "fresh start", transforming it into deliberately jaded through recurring use. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They decided to make a fresh start" appear throughout the text. At the same time, the author herself is embarking on her own fresh start, because this presents as a new kind of book – observational, genuinely novelistic. However it turns out to be laden with the same dilemmas and styles as her previous works.
From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus was originally an artist who entered the literary world unintentionally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, converting confessional female writing from humiliation into defiance. She continued writing, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels missed the shock and immediacy that the epistolary style imparted to the tone of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her role as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It is logical that she currently desires to experiment with different types of content, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a time when she claims that contemporary political climate makes confessional writing obsolete.
Three Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, encompassing several time periods – each trapped by their histories. There is the story of a couple named Emma and Jasper, representations of the author's parents, transitioning from the urban environment to the Connecticut countryside. There is the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction her husband Paul. Finally the narrative of a homicide of one troubled youth by another in a locality mostly forsaken by progressive politics only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in rural Minnesota.
As a reader attracted to honed writing of the kind Kraus herself typically rejects, I was seduced by the narrative style of the opening part.
Being a reader drawn to precise prose of the variety that Kraus herself often disregards, I was captivated by the literary tone of the initial part. It exhibits a fresh level of observation that allows space for trivial aspects, like the container that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the start of the story, helped by her beloved father. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she exclaims; "a nice toy", he answers, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". Kraus writes Emma's story with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not entirely her own."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this new voice could last out the book. Kraus says here that she is annoyed by the enjoyment readers like me have derived from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her idol author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books comes back in the central part. Catt is attempting to do up multiple decrepit residences in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting her husband curb his addiction. She feels helpless as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a environment fueled by the rage and anxiety that powers a political win. Multiple pages are devoted about the protagonist facing cancellation on social media, her professional designation altered from "writer" to "landlord" on Wikipedia. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. At one point she states that she's looking into the killing so that before exiting the region, "she could potentially understand something about an the nation that her Twitter detractors would not understand, would not even see".
The Murder Narrative
Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the referenced day experienced by the murdered individual with the killer and his associates. The author possesses great source material, and reconstructs step by step what happened when the victim Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, mooching around having his vehicle repaired and paying for snacks and drugs, before being murdered by Brittney's partner a man named Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that her twin drives 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 herself, who comes alive partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The whole section feels curiously unresolved, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par
