The Four Spent the Day Together features characters chasing after fresh starts, struggling to escape addictions or harmful partnerships, only to find hope curdling into conflict. The author often employs the phrase "new beginning", rendering it willfully cynical through its repetitions. Examples include "He aimed to start over" and "They decided to make a fresh start" appear throughout the narrative. Meanwhile, she is embarking on her own fresh start, since this seems a different type of work – observational, truly literary. Yet it reveals itself to be laden with the same dilemmas and approaches as her previous works.
From Chance Novelist to Iconic Work
Kraus was originally an visual artist who transitioned to writing somewhat by chance with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, made up of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, transforming intimate women's literature from abjection into assassination. She persisted as a writer, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels missed the shock and immediacy that the correspondence format infused into the voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her identity as a renegade artist who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was much discussion on housing investments. It makes sense that she presently aims to explore different types of content, directing her gaze to external narratives, at a time when she states that Trumpian politics turns intimate literature unnecessary.
Several Eras, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, encompassing several time periods – each trapped by their backgrounds. The book includes the story of a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, transitioning from the Bronx to a pastoral setting. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the character of Catt Greene, reckoning with the belated success of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband a man named Paul. And there is the narrative of a homicide of one troubled youth by another in a town largely deserted by progressive politics only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.
For this reader drawn to polished prose of the type Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was enchanted by the novelistic voice of the opening part.
As someone who reads who favors crafted language of the variety that the author tends to eschew, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the initial part. It possesses a novel degree of detail that allows space for small details, like the pail that the youthful Catt pries out of frozen water at the start of the story, assisted by her cherished parent. "I found an ice toy!" she says; "a lovely toy", he answers, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". The author narrates the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not hers, exactly."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was bound to become frustrated when I wished this new voice could last out the book. The author states here that she resents the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the unpolished style she echoes from her idol author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books comes back in the central part. The protagonist is working on refurbishing multiple decrepit residences in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, failing to help Paul curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as her spouse cycles through low-resource employment as an addiction therapist in a environment propelled by the rage and anxiety that underpins Trump's victory. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on social media, her professional designation altered from "novelist" to "real estate holder" on a reference site. She still gives the impression to invest excessive emotion about this. On one occasion she states that she's investigating the murder so that before departing the state, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her Twitter detractors would not understand, would not even perceive".
The Homicide Account
Thus we arrive to the murder itself – and the titular day experienced by the deceased with the killer and his associates. Kraus has great source material, and details moment by moment what occurred as the victim Brandon came to visit Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day alongside her friends, wandering about having his vehicle repaired and covering the cost of food and substances, before being killed by gunfire by her romantic interest Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
Catt develops an obsession by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and reckless transgression wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to go further into her individual preoccupations here. The compelling persona is the character Brittney, who becomes vivid partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The complete segment feels strangely incomplete, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par
