This latest work is populated with characters chasing after clean slates, struggling to escape addictions or toxic relationships, only to witness hope devolve into conflict. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", making it willfully cynical through constant reiteration. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the narrative. Meanwhile, the author herself is embarking on her individual reinvention, since this seems a different type of work – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. Yet it turns out to be packed with the recurring issues and approaches as past novels.
Chris Kraus started out as an creative who became a writer unintentionally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, transforming personal female narrative from self-debasement into assassination. She continued writing, but the following three fascinating and rebarbative novels did not possess the power and directness that the epistolary style imparted to 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 considerable focus on property transactions. It follows that she currently desires to explore new kinds of material, turning outward to other people's stories, at a moment when she claims that Trumpian politics makes confessional writing unnecessary.
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, spanning several time periods – each trapped by their backgrounds. There is the story of a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, transitioning from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. There is the account of Kraus, in the guise of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her addict husband Paul. And there is the story of the murder of one directionless individual by another in a community largely deserted by forward-thinking policies only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in rural Minnesota.
For this reader attracted to refined literature of the type Kraus tends to eschew, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the first section.
As a reader who appreciates honed writing of the kind that the author often disregards, I was won over by the novelistic voice of the opening segment. There is a novel degree of detail that allows space for small details, like the container that the protagonist as a child pries out of frozen water at the start of the story, helped by her beloved father. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a lovely toy", he answers, "the elliptical meanings of words circulating in their speech like hard candy". The author narrates the tale of Emma with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not hers, exactly."
I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this new voice could persist to the end. The author states here that she dislikes the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have gotten from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the unpolished style she shares with her hero writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her past books returns in the central part. Catt Greene is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in the city's most challenging districts while shuttling between two different states, unsuccessful in assisting Paul manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as her spouse moves between low-resource employment as an recovery specialist in a environment fueled by the anger and fear that drives Trump's victory. There are several pages about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her listed profession modified from "writer" to "landlord" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to care a little too much about this. At one point she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she might be able to learn something about an the nation that her Twitter detractors would not understand, would not even see".
Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the eponymous day passed by the deceased with the perpetrator and his companions. Kraus utilizes compelling foundational content, and knows hour by hour what happened when the victim Brandon came to meet Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she offered adult photos. He sought a sexual encounter but seems amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, mooching around fixing his automobile and funding treats and narcotics, before being shot by Brittney's partner Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.
The protagonist becomes fixated by the narrative, and I was intrigued by the way that her twin drives towards ethical reporting and audacious rule-breaking tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to go further into her individual preoccupations here. The most interesting character is Brittney herself, who comes alive partly through Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman going off the rails in a struggling, neglected community. The author informs us that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels curiously unresolved, to the point that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par
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