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The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with individuals seeking new beginnings, trying to break free from substance abuse or toxic relationships, only to witness hope devolve into violence. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "new beginning", making it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the text. And yet, the author herself seems to be making her own fresh start, since this presents as a new kind of book – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. However it turns out to be laden with the recurring issues and approaches as her previous works.

From Unplanned Author to Renowned Book

Chris Kraus began as an visual artist who transitioned to writing unintentionally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, which was composed of missives to a distant beloved, elevating personal female narrative from humiliation into rebellion. She continued writing, but the following three engaging and challenging novels did not possess the power and directness that the letter form brought to the tone of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a maverick maker who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It follows that she now wants to try out new kinds of material, turning outward to external narratives, at a moment when she asserts that Trumpian politics turns intimate literature unnecessary.

Three Generations, Collective Unavoidable Background

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, encompassing three generations – all unable to escape their backgrounds. The book includes the tale of a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, transitioning from the urban environment to a pastoral setting. Then there is the account of Kraus, in the guise of Catt Greene, confronting the belated success of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her addict husband a man named Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a town long abandoned by progressive politics only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in the Minnesota countryside.

For this reader fond of polished prose of the sort Kraus herself typically rejects, I was captivated by the novelistic voice of the opening part.

As a reader who appreciates precise prose of the variety that the author usually avoids, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the opening segment. There is a fresh level of observation that makes room for small details, like the container that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the beginning of the narrative, aided by her beloved father. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a lovely toy", he answers, "the elliptical meanings of words circulating in their speech like sweet treats". Kraus writes Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not entirely her own."

Frustration and Disruption

I was fated to feel let down when I wished this fresh tone could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she resents the satisfaction readers like me have gotten from I Love Dick; she's committed to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her hero author Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her previous novels reasserts itself in the central part. Catt Greene is attempting to do up multiple decrepit residences in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while traveling between two different states, failing to help her husband curb his addiction. She experiences powerlessness as Paul transitions between poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a society driven by the hostility and dread that underpins an electoral success. There are several pages about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "writer" to "landlord" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to care a little too much about this. At one point she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she may grasp something about an the nation that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would overlook entirely".

The Homicide Account

Then we reach to the actual killing – and the referenced day experienced by the deceased with the murderer and his friends. Kraus has compelling foundational content, and reconstructs step by step what transpired when 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 alongside her friends, wandering about having his vehicle repaired and funding treats and narcotics, before being murdered by Brittney's partner Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for violent rage.

Obsession and Unfinished Business

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 wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to explore more thoroughly her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is Brittney, who gains dimension partly through Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in prison, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. This entire part feels oddly unfinished, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par