Exploring The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Ventures Into Fresh Territory

The Four Spent the Day Together centers on protagonists pursuing clean slates, trying to break free from drugs or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into violence. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "new beginning", rendering it deliberately jaded through constant reiteration. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the narrative. And yet, she is embarking on her individual reinvention, because this appears a new kind of book – documentarian, authentically narrative. But then it proves to be laden with the recurring issues and aesthetics as earlier books.

From Unplanned Author to Renowned Book

The writer began as an visual artist who transitioned to writing unintentionally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, which was composed of missives to a distant beloved, converting personal female narrative from self-debasement into assassination. She continued writing, but the following three compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the shock and immediacy that the letter form imparted to the voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a maverick maker who had become a major property owner, so there was significant attention on real estate deals. It is logical that she presently aims to try out new kinds of material, directing her gaze to other people's stories, at a moment when she states that contemporary political climate makes confessional writing redundant.

Several Eras, Shared Inescapable History

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, spanning three generations – each trapped by their histories. We encounter the narrative about characters Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, relocating from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. There is the account of Kraus, in the persona of Catt Greene, confronting the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse a man named Paul. Finally the story of the murder of one lost young man by another in a town largely deserted by liberal ideals only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in rural Minnesota.

From my perspective as a reader fond of polished prose of the sort the author herself often avoids, I was captivated by the literary tone of the first section.

As someone who reads who appreciates crafted language of the kind that Kraus often disregards, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the opening segment. It possesses a new quality of attentiveness that allows space for trivial aspects, like the container that the youthful Catt frees from the ice at the start of the story, aided by her adored dad. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she declares; "a great plaything", he responds, "the ambiguous meanings of language circulating in their speech like piece candy". Kraus writes Emma's story with interest and closeness. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not hers, exactly."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this different style could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she shares with her idol author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books reasserts itself in the middle section. Catt is working on refurbishing three dozen dilapidated units in the city's most challenging districts while traveling between Minnesota and LA, failing to help Paul manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as Paul moves between low-resource employment as an addiction therapist in a society propelled by the hostility and dread that drives Trump's victory. There are several pages about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her listed profession modified from "novelist" to "real estate holder" on a reference site. The author still appears to invest excessive emotion about this. At one point she states that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she might be able to learn something about an the United States that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would not even perceive".

The Murder Narrative

Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the referenced day spent by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his associates. Kraus has compelling foundational content, and reconstructs step by step what happened when a man named Brandon came to visit Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she offered adult photos. He sought a sexual encounter but appears congenially to have passed the day with her companions, loitering having his vehicle repaired and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for violent rage.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

Catt develops an obsession by the story, and I found myself captivated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and audacious rule-breaking wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to explore more thoroughly her personal fixations here. The compelling persona is Brittney herself, who becomes vivid in part due to Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. The author informs us that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par

Brian Sloan
Brian Sloan

A former national table tennis champion who now coaches and writes about advanced playing techniques and gear.