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The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with characters seeking new beginnings, attempting to leave behind addictions or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into aggression. Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "clean slate", making it willfully cynical through its repetitions. Sentences like "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They chose to begin anew" are scattered across the story. And yet, she seems to be making her individual reinvention, since this appears a different type of work – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. But then it proves to be filled with the recurring issues and styles as her previous works.

From Chance Novelist to Cult Classic

Chris Kraus was originally an visual artist who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, structured as epistles to an unresponsive love interest, transforming intimate women's literature from humiliation into assassination. She kept producing books, but the next trio of fascinating and rebarbative novels lacked the power and directness that the letter form brought to the voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her role as a maverick maker who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on property transactions. It makes sense that she now wants to explore fresh narrative sources, directing her gaze to other people's stories, at a moment when she claims that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative unnecessary.

Three Generations, Collective Unavoidable Background

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, encompassing multiple eras – all unable to escape their histories. The book includes the tale of Emma and Jasper, based on her own mother and father, transitioning from the New York borough to a pastoral setting. Then there is the narrative of the author, in the character of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. And there is the narrative of a homicide of one troubled youth by another in a community long abandoned by liberal ideals only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.

As a reader drawn to polished prose of the type Kraus tends to eschew, I was captivated by the literary tone of the opening part.

As someone who reads who appreciates honed writing of the variety that Kraus herself usually avoids, I was captivated by the storytelling approach of the initial part. There is a fresh level of observation that allows space for trivial aspects, like the container that the protagonist as a child frees from the ice at the start of the story, aided by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a great plaything", he answers, "the elliptical meanings of words circulating in their speech like hard candy". She tells Emma's story with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not entirely her own."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this different style could last out the book. Kraus notes here that she dislikes the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have gotten from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disruption, to the untidy aesthetics she echoes from her inspiration author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her previous novels comes back in the second segment. Catt Greene is working on refurbishing three dozen dilapidated units in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while traveling between Minnesota and LA, failing to help Paul curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as Paul transitions between underfunded jobs as an addiction therapist in a society propelled by the anger and fear that drives Trump's victory. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt being cancelled on social media, her occupation changed from "author" to "real estate holder" on the online encyclopedia. She still gives the impression to invest excessive emotion about this. On one occasion she says that she's investigating the murder so that before exiting the region, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would not even see".

The Murder Narrative

So then we come to the homicide in question – and the referenced day passed by the murdered individual with the murderer and his friends. Kraus has excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what transpired when Brandon came to see Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day alongside her friends, loitering fixing his automobile and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for fits of anger.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

Catt develops an obsession by the account, and I was fascinated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to delve deeper into her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is Brittney herself, who becomes vivid partly through Catt seeing herself in her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus tells us that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The complete segment feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par