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A Look at The Four Spent the Day Together from Chris Kraus – A Cult Writer Ventures Into Fresh Territory

This latest work is populated with protagonists chasing after clean slates, trying to break free from drugs or toxic relationships, only to see hope turn into conflict. The author frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", rendering it deliberately jaded through constant reiteration. Phrases such as "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the text. At the same time, Kraus herself appears to be undertaking her own fresh start, because this seems a new kind of book – documentarian, truly literary. Yet it turns out to be filled with the same dilemmas and approaches as her previous works.

From Accidental Writer to Renowned Book

The writer began as an artist who entered the literary world somewhat by chance with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, transforming confessional female writing from self-debasement into assassination. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent fascinating and rebarbative novels missed the impact and rawness that the letter form infused into the narrative voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a renegade artist who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on property transactions. It is logical that she currently desires to experiment with different types of content, directing her gaze to the experiences of others, at a time when she claims that contemporary political climate makes confessional writing obsolete.

Three Generations, Collective Unavoidable Background

The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, covering multiple eras – none able to break free from their backgrounds. We encounter the story of characters Emma and Jasper, representations of the author's parents, moving from the urban environment to a pastoral setting. Additionally the story of Kraus herself, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse Paul. And there is the story of the murder of one lost young man by another in a community mostly forsaken by forward-thinking policies only a brief drive from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.

For this reader fond of refined literature of the sort the author herself typically rejects, I was enchanted by the narrative style of the first section.

As someone who reads who appreciates precise prose of the variety that Kraus often disregards, I was seduced by the literary tone of the opening segment. It possesses a fresh level of observation that allows space for minutiae, like the container that the youthful Catt pries out of frozen water at the opening of the book, helped by her cherished parent. "I found an ice toy!" she declares; "a nice toy", he answers, "the nuanced interpretations of terms rolling around in their mouths like piece candy". She tells Emma's story with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not hers, exactly."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this different style could continue through the novel. Kraus says here that she resents the satisfaction readers like me have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she has in common with her idol author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her previous novels reasserts itself in the middle section. Catt Greene is attempting to do up 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between two different states, unable to aid Paul curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as Paul transitions between low-resource employment as an recovery specialist in a society fueled by the hostility and dread that underpins a political win. There are several pages about the protagonist facing cancellation on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "writer" to "real estate holder" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. On one occasion she says that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she might be able to learn something about an the nation that her online critics would be unable to grasp, would not even see".

The Murder Narrative

So then we come to the homicide in question – and the eponymous day experienced by the murdered individual with the killer and his associates. Kraus has great source material, and reconstructs step by step what occurred as a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He sought a sexual encounter 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 murdered by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for violent rage.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

The protagonist becomes fixated by the story, and I was fascinated by the way that her twin drives towards responsible documentation and reckless transgression wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to explore more thoroughly her own obsessions here. The standout figure is Brittney herself, who gains dimension partly through Catt's identification with her – another bright, bullied girl going off the rails in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels curiously unresolved, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par

The writer

Emily Harris

A tech enthusiast and digital strategist with a passion for exploring how technology shapes everyday life and sharing actionable insights.

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