The Four Spent the Day Together by author Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Explores Something New

The Four Spent the Day Together centers on protagonists pursuing fresh starts, attempting to leave behind addictions or abusive marriages, only to see hope turn into violence. The author often employs the phrase "new beginning", rendering it deliberately jaded through recurring use. Phrases such as "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the narrative. At the same time, the author herself is embarking on her personal new beginning, since this seems a new kind of book – documentarian, genuinely novelistic. Yet it turns out to be packed with the recurring issues and approaches as her previous works.

From Unplanned Author to Cult Classic

Chris Kraus began as an artist who became a writer almost accidentally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, transforming intimate women's literature from self-debasement into rebellion. She continued writing, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the epistolary style imparted to the tone of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her identity as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a major property owner, so there was significant attention on real estate deals. It is logical that she now wants to explore different types of content, looking outwards to the experiences of others, at a moment when she claims that contemporary political climate makes confessional writing redundant.

Several Eras, One Unescapable Past

The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning three generations – none able to break free from their pasts. We encounter the narrative about Emma and Jasper, based on her own mother and father, moving from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. Additionally the account of Kraus, in the character of a figure named Catt Greene, confronting the late recognition of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse a man named Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a locality mostly forsaken by progressive politics only a short distance from the protagonist's home in the Minnesota countryside.

From my perspective as a reader drawn to honed writing of the kind Kraus typically rejects, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the initial segment.

As someone who reads drawn to honed writing of the kind that Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the initial part. It exhibits a novel degree of detail that makes room for trivial aspects, like the container that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the opening of the book, helped by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he answers, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". Kraus writes Emma's story with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not entirely her own."

Letdown and Fragmentation

I was fated to feel let down when I wished this new voice could last out the book. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the enjoyment readers like me have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she has in common with her hero writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her past books returns in the second segment. The protagonist 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 Paul curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as her spouse transitions between low-resource employment as an addiction therapist in a world fueled by the anger and fear that powers an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about Catt being cancelled on a platform, 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 remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before departing the state, "she might be able to learn something about an the nation that her Twitter detractors would be unable to grasp, would overlook entirely".

The Homicide Account

So then we come to the actual killing – and the eponymous day experienced by the murdered individual with the murderer and his companions. Kraus has great source material, and knows hour by hour what transpired when Brandon came to visit Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He sought a sexual encounter but appears congenially to have passed the day with her companions, wandering about fixing his automobile and funding treats and narcotics, before being killed by gunfire by her romantic interest Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.

Fascination and Incompletion

The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I found myself captivated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards ethical reporting and audacious rule-breaking tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who gains dimension partly through the protagonist's connection to her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus tells us that Catt converses with Brittney in jail, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The whole section feels curiously unresolved, to the degree that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par

Wanda Jackson
Wanda Jackson

A passionate cultural writer with a background in art history, sharing unique insights on contemporary cultural trends.