The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with protagonists pursuing new beginnings, trying to break free from drugs or abusive marriages, only to witness hope devolve into violence. The author repeatedly invokes the phrase "clean slate", making it deliberately jaded through recurring use. Phrases such as "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the story. And yet, Kraus herself appears to be undertaking her individual reinvention, because this seems a different type of work – observational, truly literary. Yet it proves to be laden with the same dilemmas and approaches as earlier books.
From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work
The writer started out as an creative who became a writer somewhat by chance with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, transforming intimate women's literature from abjection into rebellion. She persisted as a writer, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the shock and immediacy that the correspondence format imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a renegade artist who had become a extensive real estate holder, so there was considerable focus on real estate deals. It follows that she now wants to experiment with fresh narrative sources, turning outward to external narratives, 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 three generations – each trapped by their backgrounds. We encounter the tale of characters Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, relocating from the New York borough to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the narrative of the author, in the character of a figure named Catt Greene, confronting the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one troubled youth by another in a town mostly forsaken by progressive politics only a brief drive from Catt's cottage in the Minnesota countryside.
For this reader drawn to honed writing of the sort the author herself often avoids, I was enchanted by the narrative style of the opening part.
Being a reader drawn to honed writing of the variety that Kraus usually avoids, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the initial part. It possesses a fresh level of observation that allows space for trivial aspects, like the container that the young Catt dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, aided by her adored dad. "Look, an ice toy!" she says; "a great plaything", he responds, "the ambiguous meanings of language circulating in their speech like piece candy". She tells Emma's story with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not precisely her dream."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was fated to feel let down when I expected this fresh tone could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she resents the satisfaction audiences such as myself have gotten from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she shares with her hero author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books returns in the central part. The protagonist is attempting to do up multiple decrepit residences in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between Minnesota and LA, unable to aid Paul manage his alcohol use. She feels helpless as her spouse moves between low-resource employment as an recovery specialist in a world driven by the anger and fear that underpins an electoral success. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her listed profession modified from "writer" to "landlord" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. In a moment she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before exiting the region, "she might be able to learn something about an the United States that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would overlook entirely".
The Homicide Account
So then we come to the homicide in question – and the referenced day experienced by the victim with the perpetrator and his associates. Kraus has excellent raw material, and details moment by moment what transpired when a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she marketed explicit images. He was hoping for sex but appears congenially to have passed the day in the company of her associates, mooching around having his vehicle repaired and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by her romantic interest 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 narrative, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards ethical reporting and reckless transgression tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to go further into her individual preoccupations here. The most interesting character is the character Brittney, who comes alive partly through the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that Catt converses with Brittney in prison, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. This entire part feels curiously unresolved, to the point that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par
