The new book features characters pursuing new beginnings, trying to break free from drugs or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into violence. The author frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", making it intentionally weary through recurring use. Sentences like "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the story. Meanwhile, Kraus herself is embarking on her personal new beginning, since this appears a new kind of book – fact-based, truly literary. But then it proves to be filled with the recurring issues and styles as earlier books.
From Chance Novelist to Cult Classic
Chris Kraus was originally an artist who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, which was composed of letters to an unreceptive lover, elevating intimate women's literature from humiliation into assassination. She kept producing books, but the following three engaging and challenging novels lacked the shock and immediacy that the letter form infused into the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her role as a renegade artist who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on real estate deals. It makes sense that she presently aims to try out fresh narrative sources, directing her gaze to the experiences of others, at a moment when she states that Trumpian politics makes confessional writing unnecessary.
Several Eras, Collective Unavoidable Background
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning multiple eras – each trapped by their backgrounds. We encounter the story of characters Emma and Jasper, versions of her own mother and father, relocating from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. Then there is the account of Kraus, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction a man named Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one troubled youth by another in a community mostly forsaken by forward-thinking policies only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in rural Minnesota.
From my perspective as a reader attracted to polished prose of the sort Kraus often avoids, I was captivated by the narrative style of the initial segment.
As someone who reads who favors precise prose of the variety that the author usually avoids, I was captivated by the literary tone of the opening segment. There is a novel degree of detail that accommodates small details, like the pail that the young Catt dislodges from ice at the start of the story, aided by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a great plaything", he replies, "the elliptical meanings of words tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". She tells Emma's story with interest and closeness. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was destined to be disappointed when I wished this different style could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she dislikes the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disruption, to the unpolished style she shares with her idol Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books returns in the second segment. Catt Greene is working on refurbishing 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between the Midwest and the West Coast, unable to aid her husband manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as her spouse transitions between poorly supported positions as an recovery specialist in a world propelled by the hostility and dread that powers Trump's victory. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her professional designation altered from "author" to "real estate holder" on Wikipedia. The author still appears to be overly concerned about this. At one point she states that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she could potentially understand something about an America that her online critics would be unable to grasp, would not even see".
The Homicide Account
So then we come to the murder itself – and the referenced day passed by the victim with the perpetrator and his friends. Kraus utilizes compelling foundational content, and details moment by moment what happened when a man named Brandon came to visit Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He was hoping for sex but seems affably to have spent the day alongside her friends, wandering about fixing his automobile and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.
Fascination and Incompletion
Catt gets obsessed by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that her twin drives towards accurate chronicling and reckless transgression clash in this segment. But I'd have liked her to go further into her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney herself, who comes alive in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual going off the rails in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus notes that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. This entire part feels curiously unresolved, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par
