A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Explores Fresh Territory

This latest work is populated with individuals chasing after clean slates, struggling to escape substance abuse or harmful partnerships, only to find hope curdling into conflict. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", rendering it deliberately jaded through its repetitions. Phrases such as "He could make a fresh start" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the narrative. At the same time, Kraus herself is embarking on her individual reinvention, as this appears a novel form of writing – observational, truly literary. But then it turns out to be packed with the recurring issues and aesthetics as earlier books.

From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work

Chris Kraus started out as an visual artist who became a writer unintentionally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, made up of letters to an unreceptive lover, transforming intimate women's literature from abjection into defiance. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the letter form brought to the tone of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a nonconformist creator who had become a major property owner, so there was significant attention on property transactions. It makes sense that she currently desires to experiment with different types of content, turning outward to external narratives, at a moment when she asserts that current political era makes confessional writing redundant.

Multiple Generations, Shared Inescapable History

The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, encompassing three generations – none able to break free from their backgrounds. There is the tale of Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, moving from the urban environment to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the narrative of the author, in the persona of protagonist Catt Greene, confronting the belated success of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse a man named Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a community mostly forsaken by forward-thinking policies only 80 miles from Catt's rural residence in rural Minnesota.

From my perspective as a reader drawn to honed writing of the sort the author herself tends to eschew, I was captivated by the literary tone of the opening part.

As a reader drawn to crafted language of the variety that Kraus herself usually avoids, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the opening segment. It exhibits a fresh level of observation that accommodates trivial aspects, like the container that the protagonist as a child pries out of frozen water at the beginning of the narrative, helped by her cherished parent. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she declares; "a nice toy", he responds, "the ambiguous meanings of language circulating in their speech like piece candy". She tells Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not hers, exactly."

Frustration and Disruption

I was fated to feel let down when I hoped this new voice could last out the book. The author states here that she resents the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have gotten from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her hero author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books comes back in the second segment. Catt Greene is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting her husband manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as Paul cycles through underfunded jobs as an recovery specialist in a society driven by the hostility and dread that drives a political win. Multiple pages are devoted about the protagonist facing cancellation on a platform, her occupation changed from "writer" to "real estate holder" on Wikipedia. She still gives the impression to be overly concerned about this. In a moment 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 not even perceive".

The Murder Narrative

Thus we arrive to the murder itself – and the referenced day passed by the deceased with the killer and his associates. Kraus utilizes great source material, and knows hour by hour what occurred as Brandon came to meet Brittney after meeting her on an app where she offered adult photos. He sought a sexual encounter but seems amiably to have occupied the day in the company of her associates, loitering fixing his automobile and funding treats and narcotics, before being shot by Brittney's partner Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for violent rage.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I found myself captivated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards accurate chronicling and reckless transgression clash in this segment. But I'd have liked her to explore more thoroughly her personal fixations here. The most interesting character is Brittney, who gains dimension partly through the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par

Mary Holt
Mary Holt

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