The Four Spent the Day Together features characters pursuing clean slates, attempting to leave behind drugs or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into conflict. Chris Kraus often employs the phrase "fresh start", rendering it intentionally weary through constant reiteration. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They chose to begin anew" appear throughout the text. Meanwhile, she seems to be making her own fresh start, because this seems a new kind of book – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. But then it reveals itself to be laden with the familiar conflicts and aesthetics as earlier books.
From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work
The writer started out as an visual artist who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, made up of letters to an unreceptive lover, transforming personal female narrative from abjection into defiance. She continued writing, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels missed the power and directness that the letter form imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her position as a maverick maker who had evolved into a major property owner, so there was significant attention on housing investments. It is logical that she currently desires to experiment with different types of content, turning outward to external narratives, at a time when she states that contemporary political climate renders personal narrative obsolete.
Three Generations, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, covering multiple eras – each trapped by their histories. The book includes the story of a couple named Emma and Jasper, representations of the author's parents, moving from the Bronx to rural Connecticut. There is the account of Kraus, in the persona of Catt Greene, grappling with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a town mostly forsaken by liberal ideals only a short distance from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.
From my perspective as a reader fond of honed writing of the kind Kraus herself often avoids, I was seduced by the literary tone of the opening part.
Being a reader who appreciates honed writing of the kind that Kraus herself often disregards, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the first section. There is a fresh level of observation that makes room for trivial aspects, like the bucket that the young Catt frees from the ice at the start of the story, helped by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a lovely toy", he replies, "the ambiguous meanings of language rolling around in their mouths like hard candy". She tells Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not entirely her own."
Frustration and Disruption
I was destined to be disappointed when I expected this fresh tone could continue through the novel. The author states here that she resents the enjoyment audiences such as myself have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she has in common with her hero author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books returns in the central part. The protagonist is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while shuttling between the Midwest and the West Coast, failing to help her husband curb his addiction. She feels helpless as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a world fueled by the anger and fear that powers a political win. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt's social media ostracism on social media, her listed profession modified from "novelist" to "landlord" 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 may grasp something about an the United States that her online critics would not understand, would not even perceive".
The Murder Narrative
Thus we arrive to the murder itself – and the eponymous day passed by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his associates. Kraus utilizes excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what occurred as the victim Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He sought a sexual encounter but seems affably to have spent the day in the company of her associates, wandering about getting his car mended and paying for snacks and drugs, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend a man named Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has often been institutionalized for violent rage.
Fascination and Incompletion
Catt gets obsessed by the story, and I found myself captivated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards ethical reporting and daring boundary-pushing tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her personal fixations here. The standout figure is the character Brittney, who becomes vivid partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels curiously unresolved, to the degree that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par
