The Four Spent the Day Together features characters seeking new beginnings, trying to break free from addictions or harmful partnerships, only to find hope curdling into aggression. The author often employs the phrase "new beginning", transforming it into willfully cynical through constant reiteration. Sentences like "He could make a fresh start" and "They decided to make a fresh start" appear throughout the story. At the same time, the author herself appears to be undertaking her personal new beginning, because this appears a different type of work – observational, genuinely novelistic. However it proves to be filled with the familiar conflicts and styles as her previous works.
From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work
Kraus started out as an creative who entered the literary world unintentionally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, made up of letters to an unreceptive lover, converting intimate women's literature from self-debasement into assassination. She persisted as a writer, but the next trio of fascinating and rebarbative novels missed the impact and rawness that the epistolary style imparted to the voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her role as a nonconformist creator who had become a major property owner, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It is logical that she presently aims to try out different types of content, directing her gaze to external narratives, at a period in which she states that current political era turns intimate literature obsolete.
Three Generations, Collective Unavoidable Background
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, covering three generations – all unable to escape their backgrounds. We encounter the narrative about Emma and Jasper, based on Kraus's parents, transitioning from the Bronx to rural Connecticut. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her partner struggling with addiction her husband Paul. And there is the story of the murder of one troubled youth by another in a community largely deserted by liberal ideals only a short distance from Catt's cottage in rural Minnesota.
From my perspective as a reader fond of refined literature of the kind Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was captivated by the narrative style of the first section.
As a reader drawn to honed writing of the variety that Kraus herself often disregards, I was seduced by the literary tone of the first section. There is a fresh level of observation that allows space for trivial aspects, like the bucket that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, helped by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a nice toy", he replies, "the ambiguous meanings of language rolling around in their mouths like piece candy". She tells the tale of Emma with inquiry and familiarity. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not precisely her dream."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was fated to feel let down when I hoped this different style could continue through the novel. Kraus says here that she dislikes the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disjunction, to the unpolished style she shares with her hero writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her earlier works comes back in the second segment. Catt is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while moving between Minnesota and LA, unable to aid Paul curb his addiction. She feels helpless as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a environment fueled by the rage and anxiety that underpins an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about the protagonist facing cancellation on a platform, her professional designation altered from "writer" to "real estate holder" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. In a moment she remarks that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her social media opponents would not understand, would not even see".
The Murder Narrative
Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the eponymous day passed by the victim with the killer and his friends. Kraus has great source material, and knows hour by hour what happened when Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she sold sex pictures. He anticipated intimacy but appears congenially to have passed the day alongside her friends, wandering about fixing his automobile and covering the cost of food and substances, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's boyfriend a man named Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for aggressive outbursts.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt develops an obsession by the narrative, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards responsible documentation and audacious rule-breaking wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to explore more thoroughly her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is Brittney, who comes alive partially because of Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman going off the rails in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus notes that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in prison, but she fails to enact these dialogues. This entire part feels curiously unresolved, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par