🔗 Share this article

The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with protagonists pursuing clean slates, trying to break free from drugs or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into aggression. Kraus frequently uses the phrase "fresh start", rendering it intentionally weary through constant reiteration. Phrases such as "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They decided to make a fresh start" recur in the text. At the same time, the author herself is embarking on her personal new beginning, as this presents as a new kind of book – documentarian, genuinely novelistic. Yet it proves to be laden with the recurring issues and approaches as her previous works.

From Accidental Writer to Renowned Book

The writer began as an artist who transitioned to writing unintentionally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, made up of missives to a distant beloved, elevating intimate women's literature from humiliation into assassination. She kept producing books, but the three subsequent fascinating and rebarbative novels missed the power and directness that the letter form imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her identity as a renegade artist who had become a major property owner, so there was considerable focus on property transactions. It makes sense that she now wants to experiment with different types of content, directing her gaze to other people's stories, at a time when she claims that current political era turns intimate literature obsolete.

Three Generations, One Unescapable Past

The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, spanning several time periods – all unable to escape their backgrounds. The book includes the story of Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, moving from the urban environment to rural Connecticut. Then there is the account of Kraus, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse a man named Paul. The third thread involves the story of the murder of one directionless individual by another in a community largely deserted by liberal ideals only a short distance from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.

From my perspective as a reader attracted to honed writing of the sort Kraus typically rejects, I was enchanted by the novelistic voice of the first section.

As someone who reads drawn to crafted language of the kind that Kraus herself often disregards, I was seduced by the storytelling approach of the initial part. It exhibits a new quality of attentiveness that accommodates minutiae, like the bucket that the youthful Catt frees from the ice at the beginning of the narrative, aided by her adored dad. "I found an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a lovely toy", he responds, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". Kraus writes Emma's narrative with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not entirely her own."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was destined to be disappointed when I expected this different style could last out the book. Kraus notes here that she dislikes the enjoyment audiences such as myself have gotten from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to fragmentation, to the unpolished style she has in common with her idol author Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her previous novels reasserts itself in the central part. Catt is working on refurbishing 36 run-down apartments in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while shuttling between Minnesota and LA, failing to help Paul manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an recovery specialist in a society fueled by the hostility and dread that drives a political win. There are several pages about Catt being cancelled on social media, her occupation changed from "author" to "landlord" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to be overly concerned about this. In a moment she says that she's researching the homicide so that before departing the state, "she may grasp something about an America that her social media opponents would be unable to grasp, would overlook entirely".

The Killing Story

Thus we arrive to the murder itself – and the titular day passed by the murdered individual with the killer and his friends. The author possesses great source material, and reconstructs step by step what transpired when the victim Brandon came to meet Brittney after connecting via an application where she offered adult photos. He was hoping for sex but seems affably to have spent the day alongside her friends, loitering getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by Brittney's partner Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has repeatedly received inpatient care for fits of anger.

Fascination and Incompletion

Catt develops an obsession by the narrative, and I was intrigued by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards accurate chronicling and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to go further into her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is Brittney, who becomes vivid partially because of Catt's identification with her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The whole section feels curiously unresolved, to the degree that her narrative ends almost mid-par