A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together from author Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Attempts New Ground

The Four Spent the Day Together centers on characters 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 "clean slate", making it intentionally weary through recurring use. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the narrative. At the same time, the author herself seems to be making her own fresh start, since this presents as a different type of work – documentarian, genuinely novelistic. However it proves to be filled with the familiar conflicts and aesthetics as earlier books.

From Chance Novelist to Cult Classic

The writer began as an visual artist who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, which was composed of missives to a distant beloved, converting intimate women's literature from self-debasement into defiance. She persisted as a writer, but the following three engaging and challenging novels lacked the shock and immediacy that the correspondence format brought to the tone of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a renegade artist who had become a major property owner, so there was considerable focus on real estate deals. It is logical that she presently aims to explore different types of content, looking outwards to external narratives, at a period in which she states that current political era turns intimate literature unnecessary.

Multiple Generations, One Unescapable Past

The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, spanning three generations – none able to break free from their histories. The book includes the story of characters Emma and Jasper, based on the author's parents, transitioning from the urban environment to the Connecticut countryside. There is the story of Kraus herself, in the character of Catt Greene, reckoning with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her addict husband her husband Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a locality mostly forsaken by forward-thinking policies only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in the Minnesota countryside.

As a reader drawn to honed writing of the sort the author herself often avoids, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the first section.

As someone who reads who favors crafted language of the variety that the author tends to eschew, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the first section. It exhibits a novel degree of detail that allows space for small details, like the pail that the protagonist as a child dislodges from ice at the beginning of the narrative, helped by her adored dad. "I found an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he replies, "the elliptical meanings of words tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". Kraus writes Emma's narrative with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this new voice could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she dislikes the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have gotten from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she has in common with her idol writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her earlier works comes back in the second segment. The protagonist is working on refurbishing 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between two different states, unsuccessful in assisting her husband manage his alcohol use. She feels helpless as Paul transitions between poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a environment propelled by the anger and fear that powers a political win. There are several pages about Catt's social media ostracism on social media, her professional designation altered from "writer" to "real estate holder" on the online encyclopedia. She still gives the impression to invest excessive emotion about this. In a moment she says that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she might be able to learn something about an America that her social media opponents would not understand, would not even perceive".

The Homicide Account

Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the titular day experienced by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his associates. Kraus has great source material, and reconstructs step by step what happened when a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He was hoping for sex but appears congenially to have passed the day with her companions, loitering getting his car mended and funding treats and narcotics, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's boyfriend a man named Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

Catt develops an obsession by the narrative, and I found myself captivated by the way that her twin drives towards ethical reporting and reckless transgression clash in this segment. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is Brittney, who comes alive partially because of Catt seeing herself in her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels strangely incomplete, to the degree that her narrative ends almost mid-par

Ashley Flores
Ashley Flores

A passionate film critic and former screenwriter from South London, covering indie and blockbuster releases.