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The Four Spent the Day Together centers on characters chasing after new beginnings, trying to break free from drugs or abusive marriages, only to witness hope devolve into violence. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "clean slate", making it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Examples include "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They decided to make a fresh start" recur in the narrative. And yet, Kraus herself seems to be making her own fresh start, since this appears a different type of work – documentarian, authentically narrative. However it proves to be filled with the familiar conflicts and styles as past novels.

From Accidental Writer to Cult Classic

The writer started out as an visual artist who entered the literary world somewhat by chance with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, made up of letters to an unreceptive lover, converting intimate women's literature from self-debasement into rebellion. She persisted as a writer, but the three subsequent fascinating and rebarbative novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the letter form infused into the tone of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a renegade artist who had evolved into a major property owner, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It is logical that she currently desires to experiment with new kinds of material, looking outwards to other people's stories, at a moment when she states that Trumpian politics makes confessional writing redundant.

Multiple Generations, Shared Inescapable History

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, encompassing three generations – each trapped by their histories. The book includes the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, transitioning from the urban environment to a pastoral setting. Additionally the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of a figure named Catt Greene, confronting the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband a man named Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a community largely deserted by liberal ideals only a short distance from the protagonist's home in rural Minnesota.

From my perspective as a reader drawn to polished prose of the kind Kraus herself often avoids, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the opening part.

As someone who reads who appreciates crafted language of the variety that the author often disregards, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the first section. It possesses a new quality of attentiveness that accommodates small details, like the container that the youthful Catt pries out of frozen water at the beginning of the narrative, assisted by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a nice toy", he responds, "the ambiguous meanings of language circulating in their speech like sweet treats". She tells Emma's narrative with curiosity and intimacy. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not hers, exactly."

Letdown and Fragmentation

I was destined to be disappointed when I wished this different style could continue through the novel. Kraus says here that she is annoyed by the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she shares with her inspiration Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her earlier works comes back in the middle section. Catt Greene is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in the city's most challenging districts while traveling between two different states, unable to aid her husband manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as Paul cycles through low-resource employment as an recovery specialist in a world driven by the rage and anxiety that underpins Trump's victory. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her professional designation altered from "author" to "landlord" on Wikipedia. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. In a moment she states that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would overlook entirely".

The Murder Narrative

So then we come to the actual killing – and the referenced day spent by the murdered individual with the murderer and his friends. Kraus utilizes excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what occurred as Brandon came to visit Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but appears congenially to have passed the day in the company of her associates, mooching around getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by her romantic interest Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for fits of anger.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

Catt gets obsessed by the story, and I was fascinated by the way that her twin drives towards accurate chronicling and daring boundary-pushing tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to explore more thoroughly her own obsessions here. The most interesting character is Brittney, who comes alive in part due to Catt seeing herself in her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman derailing in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in prison, but she fails to enact these dialogues. This entire part feels strangely incomplete, to the degree that her narrative ends almost mid-par