Exploring The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – An Iconic Writer Attempts Something New
This latest work centers on individuals chasing after new beginnings, trying to break free from addictions or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into conflict. Chris Kraus often employs the phrase "new beginning", making it willfully cynical through recurring use. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the text. Meanwhile, Kraus herself is embarking on her individual reinvention, because this appears a novel form of writing – fact-based, authentically narrative. However it proves to be filled with the familiar conflicts and styles as her previous works.
From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work
Chris Kraus started out as an artist who entered the literary world unintentionally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, converting intimate women's literature from self-debasement into rebellion. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the correspondence format infused into the voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her role as a maverick maker who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was much discussion on housing investments. It is logical that she now wants to experiment with new kinds of material, turning outward to external narratives, at a time when she asserts that current political era renders personal narrative unnecessary.
Multiple Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, covering three generations – each trapped by their pasts. There is the narrative about characters Emma and Jasper, representations of the author's parents, relocating from the New York borough to the Connecticut countryside. Additionally the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of protagonist Catt Greene, reckoning with the belated success of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. Finally the story of the murder of one troubled youth by another in a locality long abandoned by progressive politics only 80 miles from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.
From my perspective as a reader drawn to polished prose of the kind the author herself typically rejects, I was seduced by the literary tone of the first section.
As a reader who appreciates honed writing of the kind that Kraus usually avoids, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the first section. There is a new quality of attentiveness that accommodates minutiae, like the bucket that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the beginning of the narrative, aided by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a great plaything", he replies, "the nuanced interpretations of terms tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". Kraus writes the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not precisely her dream."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was fated to feel let down when I wished this different style could persist to the end. The author states here that she is annoyed by the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the messy artistic approach she shares with her hero Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her previous novels returns in the central part. Catt is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while shuttling between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting Paul control his drinking. She feels helpless as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an recovery specialist in a society driven by the rage and anxiety that powers a political win. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her listed profession modified from "writer" to "landlord" on Wikipedia. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she may grasp something about an America that her Twitter detractors would not understand, would overlook entirely".
The Murder Narrative
Then we reach to the murder itself – and the titular day passed by the deceased with the killer and his associates. Kraus utilizes compelling foundational content, and details moment by moment what transpired when Brandon came to see Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she sold sex pictures. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day alongside her friends, mooching around fixing his automobile and funding treats and narcotics, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's partner a man named Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.
Fascination and Incompletion
Catt develops an obsession by the narrative, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards responsible documentation and reckless transgression wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her personal fixations here. The most interesting character is the character Brittney, who comes alive partly through Catt's identification with her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus tells us that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. This entire part feels oddly unfinished, to the point that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par