This latest work features characters chasing after new beginnings, struggling to escape substance abuse or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into aggression. The author frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", making it intentionally weary 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. Meanwhile, she seems to be making her personal new beginning, since this appears a novel form of writing – documentarian, authentically narrative. But then it turns out to be packed with the recurring issues and aesthetics as past novels.
From Unplanned Author to Renowned Book
The writer began as an visual artist who became a writer almost accidentally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, made up of epistles to an unresponsive love interest, elevating intimate women's literature from abjection into defiance. She continued writing, but the three subsequent engaging and challenging novels lacked the power and directness that the letter form infused into the narrative voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a maverick maker who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was much discussion on property transactions. It follows that she now wants to experiment with fresh narrative sources, directing her gaze to external narratives, at a period in which she claims that contemporary political climate renders personal narrative unnecessary.
Multiple Generations, One Unescapable Past
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, covering three generations – none able to break free from their backgrounds. There is the tale of Emma and Jasper, representations of her own mother and father, moving from the Bronx to a pastoral setting. Then there is the account of Kraus, in the guise of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction Paul. And there is the story of the murder of one lost young man by another in a locality long abandoned by liberal ideals only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.
For this reader attracted to polished prose of the sort the author herself often avoids, I was seduced by the literary tone of the opening part.
As a reader who favors honed writing of the style that Kraus herself usually avoids, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the initial part. It exhibits a fresh level of observation that makes room for trivial aspects, like the container that the young Catt dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, aided by her cherished parent. "I found an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a nice toy", he replies, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". Kraus writes the tale of Emma with inquiry and familiarity. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – 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 says here that she resents the pleasure those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her hero Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her earlier works returns in the middle section. Catt Greene is working on refurbishing three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while traveling between Minnesota and LA, unsuccessful in assisting her husband control his drinking. She feels helpless as Paul moves between poorly supported positions as an recovery specialist in a environment propelled by the anger and fear that drives Trump's victory. A significant portion discusses about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her occupation changed from "writer" to "landlord" on a reference site. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she states that she's looking into the killing so that before exiting the region, "she might be able to learn something about an the nation that her social media opponents would not understand, would overlook entirely".
The Killing Story
Then we reach to the murder itself – and the referenced day spent by the victim with the killer and his associates. Kraus has compelling foundational content, and reconstructs step by step what transpired when Brandon came to meet Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but appears congenially to have passed the day in the company of her associates, loitering getting his car mended and funding treats and narcotics, before being killed by gunfire by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has often been institutionalized for violent rage.
Preoccupation and Open Ends
Catt gets obsessed by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards ethical reporting and reckless transgression tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to go further into her personal fixations here. The compelling persona is the character Brittney, who comes alive in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in prison, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. This entire part feels oddly unfinished, to the point that her narrative ends almost mid-par
