A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Ventures Into Something New
This latest work is populated with individuals chasing after clean slates, trying to break free from substance abuse or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into conflict. Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "fresh start", transforming it into willfully cynical through its repetitions. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They decided to make a fresh start" recur in the narrative. At the same time, she seems to be making her personal new beginning, as this seems a novel form of writing – fact-based, authentically narrative. However it turns out to be filled with the recurring issues and aesthetics as earlier books.
From Accidental Writer to Cult Classic
Chris Kraus started out as an creative who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, transforming intimate women's literature from self-debasement into rebellion. She persisted as a writer, but the following three engaging and challenging novels did not possess the shock and immediacy that the letter form infused into the tone of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was much discussion on real estate deals. It makes sense that she presently aims to experiment with fresh narrative sources, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a period in which she asserts that Trumpian politics turns intimate literature redundant.
Multiple Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, covering three generations – none able to break free from their pasts. We encounter the narrative about characters Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, relocating from the urban environment to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. Finally the narrative of a homicide of one troubled youth by another in a locality mostly forsaken by progressive politics only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in the Minnesota countryside.
As a reader fond of polished prose of the type Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the first section.
Being a reader who appreciates precise prose of the variety that the author often disregards, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the opening segment. It exhibits a novel degree of detail that accommodates trivial aspects, like the bucket that the protagonist as a child pries out of frozen water at the start of the story, aided by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a great plaything", he answers, "the nuanced interpretations of terms circulating in their speech like hard candy". The author narrates Emma's story with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not precisely her dream."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this new voice could persist to the end. The author states here that she is annoyed by the satisfaction readers like me have taken from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the messy artistic approach she has in common with her idol Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her earlier works returns in the middle section. Catt is working on refurbishing 36 run-down apartments in the city's most challenging districts while shuttling between Minnesota and LA, unsuccessful in assisting Paul control his drinking. She is overwhelmed as Paul cycles through low-resource employment as an addiction therapist in a world driven by the anger and fear that underpins an electoral success. There are several pages about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her occupation changed from "novelist" to "property owner" on Wikipedia. The author still appears to be overly concerned about this. On one occasion she says that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she might be able to learn something about an the nation that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would overlook entirely".
The Murder Narrative
Thus we arrive to the actual killing – and the referenced day spent by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his friends. Kraus has great source material, and knows hour by hour what happened when Brandon came to meet Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He sought a sexual encounter but seems amiably to have occupied the day in the company of her associates, wandering about fixing his automobile and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend a man named Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for aggressive outbursts.
Fascination and Incompletion
The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I found myself captivated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing clash in this segment. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her individual preoccupations here. The compelling persona is Brittney herself, who gains dimension partially because of Catt seeing herself in her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman going off the rails in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in prison, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par