A tech journalist and digital strategist with over a decade of experience covering emerging technologies and their impact on society.
This latest work is populated with protagonists chasing after fresh starts, struggling to escape drugs or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into conflict. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", making it willfully cynical through recurring use. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They decided to make a fresh start" recur in the narrative. Meanwhile, the author herself seems to be making her individual reinvention, since this presents as a new kind of book – observational, genuinely novelistic. Yet it turns out to be packed with the familiar conflicts and styles as earlier books.
Kraus was originally an visual artist who transitioned to writing unintentionally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as epistles to an unresponsive love interest, elevating intimate women's literature from abjection into rebellion. She kept producing books, but the three subsequent engaging and challenging novels did not possess the power and directness that the correspondence format infused into the narrative voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a nonconformist creator who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on property transactions. It makes sense that she presently aims to explore different types of content, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a time when she asserts that Trumpian politics makes confessional writing unnecessary.
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, encompassing multiple eras – each trapped by their pasts. There is the tale of a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, relocating from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the character of a figure named Catt Greene, confronting the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction a man named Paul. The third thread involves the narrative of a homicide of one directionless individual by another in a town long abandoned by forward-thinking policies only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in rural Minnesota.
From my perspective as a reader attracted to polished prose of the kind Kraus tends to eschew, I was captivated by the literary tone of the first section.
As someone who reads drawn to precise prose of the style that Kraus herself usually avoids, I was won over by the literary tone of the opening segment. It exhibits a new quality of attentiveness that makes room for minutiae, like the pail that the protagonist as a child dislodges from ice at the start of the story, helped by her beloved father. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a great plaything", he replies, "the nuanced interpretations of terms circulating in their speech like piece candy". The author narrates Emma's narrative with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not entirely her own."
I was destined to be disappointed when I expected this different style could continue through the novel. The author states here that she resents the pleasure audiences such as myself have derived from I Love Dick; she's committed to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she shares with her hero author Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her earlier works reasserts itself in the central part. Catt Greene is working on refurbishing multiple decrepit residences in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while traveling between two different states, failing to help her husband control his drinking. She feels helpless as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an recovery specialist in a world fueled by the hostility and dread that powers an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about Catt being cancelled on social media, her listed profession modified from "author" to "property owner" on Wikipedia. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. At one point she states that she's looking into the killing 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".
Then we reach to the murder itself – and the eponymous day spent by the victim with the perpetrator and his friends. Kraus has compelling foundational content, and reconstructs step by step what happened when a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He anticipated intimacy but seems affably to have spent the day with her companions, loitering fixing his automobile and paying for snacks and drugs, before being killed by gunfire by her romantic interest Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has often been institutionalized for aggressive outbursts.
The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to explore more thoroughly her individual preoccupations here. The most interesting character is Brittney herself, who comes alive partially because of the protagonist's connection to her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual derailing in a troubled, forgotten town. The author informs us that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par
A tech journalist and digital strategist with over a decade of experience covering emerging technologies and their impact on society.