🔗 Share this article Exploring The Four Spent the Day Together by Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Ventures Into Fresh Territory This latest work centers on characters chasing after new beginnings, struggling to escape drugs or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into violence. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", rendering it willfully cynical through constant reiteration. Examples include "He aimed to start over" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the text. Meanwhile, the author herself is embarking on her individual reinvention, since this appears a novel form of writing – observational, genuinely novelistic. But then it reveals itself to be filled with the familiar conflicts and styles as her previous works. From Unplanned Author to Renowned Book Kraus started out as an artist who transitioned to writing unintentionally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, which was composed of missives to a distant beloved, elevating intimate women's literature from abjection 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 imparted to the voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her position as a nonconformist creator who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was significant attention on property transactions. It is logical that she presently aims to experiment with new kinds of material, turning outward to other people's stories, at a moment when she asserts that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative unnecessary. Multiple Generations, Shared Inescapable History The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, covering three generations – all unable to escape their backgrounds. There is the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, moving from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the character of Catt Greene, reckoning with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. The third thread involves the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a locality long abandoned by liberal ideals only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in the Minnesota countryside. As a reader drawn to polished prose of the sort Kraus tends to eschew, I was enchanted by the narrative style of the opening part. As a reader who appreciates honed writing of the variety that Kraus often disregards, I was captivated by the literary tone of the initial part. It possesses a new quality of attentiveness that makes room for minutiae, like the bucket that the youthful Catt frees from the ice at the beginning of the narrative, helped by her cherished parent. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she says; "a lovely toy", he responds, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". The author narrates Emma's narrative with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not hers, exactly." Letdown and Fragmentation I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this different style could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she resents the enjoyment those who appreciate polished prose have derived from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she has in common with her inspiration author Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her earlier works reasserts itself in the central part. Catt Greene is working on refurbishing 36 run-down apartments in the city's most challenging districts while traveling between two different states, unable to aid Paul control his drinking. She is overwhelmed as Paul transitions between underfunded jobs as an recovery specialist in a world propelled by the rage and anxiety that powers an electoral success. There are several pages about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her occupation changed from "writer" to "real estate holder" on a reference site. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. At one point she states that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her social media opponents would fail to comprehend, would not even see". The Homicide Account So then we come to the murder itself – and the referenced day passed by the deceased with the perpetrator and his associates. Kraus has compelling foundational content, and knows hour by hour what happened when a man named Brandon came to visit Brittney after meeting her on an app where she sold sex pictures. He was hoping for sex but seems amiably to have occupied the day alongside her friends, wandering about getting his car mended and funding treats and narcotics, before being murdered by Brittney's partner a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts. Preoccupation and Open Ends The protagonist becomes fixated by the narrative, and I found myself captivated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards ethical reporting and reckless transgression wrestle in this part. Yet I wished her to delve deeper into her individual preoccupations here. The most interesting character is the character Brittney, who becomes vivid partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman derailing in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus tells us that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels strangely incomplete, to the point that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par