The new book centers on protagonists seeking fresh starts, struggling to escape substance abuse or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into violence. Kraus often employs the phrase "new beginning", rendering it deliberately jaded through constant reiteration. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the text. Meanwhile, she is embarking on her personal new beginning, because this appears a novel form of writing – documentarian, truly literary. Yet it proves to be packed with the same dilemmas and aesthetics as past novels.
From Chance Novelist to Cult Classic
Kraus was originally an creative who transitioned to writing unintentionally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, which was composed of letters to an unreceptive lover, transforming personal female narrative from self-debasement into rebellion. She kept producing books, but the next trio of compelling and abrasive novels lacked the shock and immediacy that the letter form imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her role as a renegade artist who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on real estate deals. It follows that she currently desires to try out new kinds of material, turning outward to other people's stories, at a time when she asserts that contemporary political climate renders personal narrative redundant.
Several Eras, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, covering multiple eras – none able to break free from their histories. There is the tale of Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, moving from the New York borough to the Connecticut countryside. There is the narrative of the author, in the persona of a figure named Catt Greene, reckoning with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her addict husband her husband Paul. And there is the story of the murder of one lost young man by another in a community largely deserted by progressive politics only a short distance from Catt's cottage in a remote part of Minnesota.
As a reader fond of polished prose of the kind Kraus tends to eschew, I was seduced by the narrative style of the initial segment.
Being a reader who favors honed writing of the variety that Kraus usually avoids, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the initial part. It exhibits a fresh level of observation that makes room for minutiae, like the container that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the start of the story, assisted by her adored dad. "I found an ice toy!" she declares; "a great plaything", he answers, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". The author narrates Emma's narrative with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not entirely her own."
Disappointment and Disjunction
I was destined to be disappointed when I wished this new voice could persist to the end. The author states here that she resents the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she has in common with her inspiration Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her previous novels comes back in the middle section. Catt is working on refurbishing three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between two different states, unsuccessful in assisting Paul curb his addiction. She feels helpless as Paul moves between poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a environment propelled by the rage and anxiety that powers Trump's victory. Multiple pages are devoted about the protagonist facing cancellation on Twitter, her professional designation altered from "writer" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. The author still appears to be overly concerned about this. At one point she states that she's looking into the killing so that before leaving Minnesota, "she might be able to learn something about an America that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would overlook entirely".
The Homicide Account
Thus we arrive to the actual killing – and the eponymous day spent by the victim with the murderer and his friends. The author possesses great source material, and knows hour by hour what transpired when a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but seems affably to have spent the day alongside her friends, mooching around fixing his automobile and funding treats and narcotics, before being shot by her romantic interest Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has repeatedly received inpatient care for fits of anger.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt develops an obsession by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that her twin drives towards ethical reporting and audacious rule-breaking wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to explore more thoroughly her individual preoccupations here. The most interesting character is Brittney herself, who gains dimension partly through Catt's identification with her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus tells us that Catt converses with Brittney in prison, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The whole section feels curiously unresolved, to the point that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par
