Exploring The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – An Iconic Writer Ventures Into New Ground
The new book is populated with protagonists seeking fresh starts, attempting to leave behind substance abuse or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into violence. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", transforming it into willfully cynical through constant reiteration. Phrases such as "He could make a fresh start" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the story. And yet, Kraus herself is embarking on her personal new beginning, since this presents as a different type of work – observational, authentically narrative. However it proves to be packed with the same dilemmas and approaches as her previous works.
From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work
Kraus started out as an creative who became a writer almost accidentally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, made up of missives to a distant beloved, transforming intimate women's literature from humiliation into defiance. She kept producing books, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels lacked the shock and immediacy that the letter form infused into the tone of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her position as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on property transactions. It follows that she currently desires to experiment with different types of content, directing her gaze to external narratives, at a moment when she asserts that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative unnecessary.
Three Generations, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, covering three generations – none able to break free from their backgrounds. There is the tale of characters Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, moving from the New York borough to a pastoral setting. There is the narrative of the author, in the persona of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. The third thread involves the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a town mostly forsaken by forward-thinking policies only a short distance from Catt's rural residence in rural Minnesota.
From my perspective as a reader drawn to polished prose of the sort Kraus herself typically rejects, I was captivated by the narrative style of the opening part.
As someone who reads who appreciates honed writing of the variety that the author usually avoids, I was captivated by the literary tone of the initial part. It exhibits a new quality of attentiveness that allows space for small details, like the pail that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the beginning of the narrative, aided by her adored dad. "I found an ice toy!" she declares; "a great plaything", he responds, "the ambiguous meanings of language circulating in their speech like piece candy". She tells Emma's story with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was bound to become frustrated when I expected this fresh tone could last out the book. Kraus says here that she is annoyed by the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have gotten from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the messy artistic approach she has in common with her idol author Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her previous novels comes back in the middle section. Catt Greene is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while traveling between two different states, failing to help Paul control his drinking. She is overwhelmed as her spouse moves between underfunded jobs as an recovery specialist in a environment propelled by the hostility and dread that underpins Trump's victory. There are several pages about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her occupation changed from "writer" to "property owner" on a reference site. She still gives the impression to care a little too much about this. At one point she says that she's looking into the killing so that before leaving Minnesota, "she might be able to learn something about an America that her online critics would not understand, would not even see".
The Homicide Account
So then we come to the actual killing – and the referenced day spent by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his associates. Kraus has great source material, and reconstructs step by step what transpired when the victim Brandon came to visit Brittney after connecting via an application where she offered adult photos. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day in the company of her associates, wandering about getting his car mended and paying for snacks and drugs, before being killed by gunfire by her romantic interest Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
The protagonist becomes fixated by the narrative, and I found myself captivated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards responsible documentation and audacious rule-breaking wrestle in this part. Yet I wished her to go further into her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is Brittney herself, who comes alive partly through Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in prison, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The whole section feels curiously unresolved, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par