A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Ventures Into Fresh Territory

This latest work is populated with individuals pursuing clean slates, struggling to escape addictions or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into aggression. Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "new beginning", rendering it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Examples include "He aimed to start over" and "They decided to make a fresh start" recur in the text. Meanwhile, Kraus herself is embarking on her individual reinvention, since this presents as a new kind of book – documentarian, truly literary. But then it reveals itself to be filled with the recurring issues and aesthetics as her previous works.

From Chance Novelist to Cult Classic

Chris Kraus started out as an visual artist who entered the literary world somewhat by chance with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, made up of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, transforming intimate women's literature from abjection into rebellion. She kept producing books, but the three subsequent fascinating and rebarbative novels lacked the impact and rawness that the letter form infused into the narrative voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her position as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a major property owner, so there was much discussion on real estate deals. It follows that she now wants to try out different types of content, turning outward to other people's stories, at a moment when she states that current political era renders personal narrative redundant.

Several Eras, One Unescapable Past

The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, covering several time periods – all unable to escape their histories. We encounter the story of a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, moving from the New York borough to a pastoral setting. There is the account of Kraus, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, confronting the belated success of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction her husband Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a town largely deserted by progressive politics only 80 miles from Catt's rural residence in a remote part of Minnesota.

For this reader attracted to polished prose of the kind Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was enchanted by the narrative style of the opening part.

Being a reader who favors precise prose of the style that Kraus tends to eschew, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the initial part. There is a fresh level of observation that accommodates minutiae, like the bucket that the youthful Catt frees from the ice at the opening of the book, helped by her beloved father. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a lovely toy", he answers, "the elliptical meanings of words circulating in their speech like hard candy". Kraus writes the tale of Emma with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not hers, exactly."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was destined to be disappointed when I wished this different style could persist to the end. The author states here that she resents the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have derived from I Love Dick; she's committed to disruption, to the unpolished style she has in common with her idol author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books reasserts itself in the central part. The protagonist is working on refurbishing three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between Minnesota and LA, unsuccessful in assisting her husband control his drinking. She is overwhelmed as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a society driven by the hostility and dread that underpins an electoral success. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt's social media ostracism on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "novelist" to "property owner" on Wikipedia. She still gives the impression to care a little too much about this. In a moment she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her social media opponents would be unable to grasp, would not even perceive".

The Killing Story

Then we reach to the homicide in question – and the titular day experienced by the victim with the perpetrator and his friends. Kraus utilizes great source material, and knows hour by hour what occurred as Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she offered adult photos. He was hoping for sex but seems affably to have spent the day with her companions, mooching around getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's partner Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for fits of anger.

Obsession and Unfinished Business

The protagonist becomes fixated by the narrative, and I found myself captivated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards responsible documentation and audacious rule-breaking clash in this segment. Yet I wished her to delve deeper into her individual preoccupations here. The most interesting character is Brittney herself, who comes alive in part due to Catt's identification with her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus tells us that Catt speaks to Brittney in jail, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels oddly unfinished, to the point that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par

Kelly Smith
Kelly Smith

A UK-based tech journalist with over a decade of experience covering digital transformation and startup ecosystems across Europe.