The new book is populated with characters pursuing new beginnings, trying to break free from addictions or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into aggression. Chris Kraus often employs the phrase "clean slate", making it intentionally weary through recurring use. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They opted for a clean break" recur in the story. Meanwhile, the author herself appears to be undertaking her individual reinvention, since this seems a different type of work – documentarian, truly literary. Yet it proves to be packed with the recurring issues and styles as earlier books.
Chris Kraus was originally an visual artist who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, which was composed of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, transforming intimate women's literature from humiliation into defiance. She kept producing books, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels lacked the shock and immediacy that the correspondence format imparted to the voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her identity as a nonconformist creator who had turned into a major property owner, so there was much discussion on real estate deals. It follows that she presently aims to explore fresh narrative sources, looking outwards to the experiences of others, at a moment when she claims that Trumpian politics turns intimate literature unnecessary.
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, encompassing several time periods – none able to break free from their backgrounds. The book includes the tale of characters Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, moving from the Bronx to a pastoral setting. Then there is the narrative of the author, in the persona of Catt Greene, grappling with the belated success of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her addict husband Paul. And there is the story of the murder of one troubled youth by another in a locality long abandoned by forward-thinking policies only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in the Minnesota countryside.
As a reader fond of refined literature of the sort the author herself often avoids, I was enchanted by the novelistic voice of the first section.
As a reader drawn to honed writing of the style that the author usually avoids, I was won over by the literary tone of the opening segment. It exhibits a novel degree of detail that allows space for minutiae, like the bucket that the protagonist as a child frees from the ice at the start of the story, helped by her beloved father. "I found an ice toy!" she declares; "a nice toy", he replies, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". Kraus writes Emma's story with interest and closeness. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."
I was destined to be disappointed when I wished this different style could continue through the novel. Kraus says here that she dislikes the pleasure readers like me have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she has in common with her hero author Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her previous novels reasserts itself in the central part. Catt is attempting to do up 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting Paul control his drinking. She feels helpless as Paul moves between low-resource employment as an addiction therapist in a society driven by the anger and fear that powers Trump's victory. A significant portion discusses about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her professional designation altered from "novelist" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she states that she's researching the homicide so that before departing the state, "she could potentially understand something about an America that her Twitter detractors would not understand, would not even perceive".
Then we reach to the murder itself – and the eponymous day experienced by the deceased with the perpetrator and his associates. The author possesses excellent raw material, and details moment by moment what transpired when a man named Brandon came to meet Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she offered adult photos. He anticipated intimacy but seems affably to have spent the day alongside her friends, mooching around having his vehicle repaired and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.
Catt gets obsessed by the account, and I found myself captivated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards accurate chronicling and audacious rule-breaking wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to go further into her personal fixations here. The compelling persona is the character Brittney, who comes alive partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl going off the rails in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par