James Whitfield is a cloud technology analyst with over a decade of experience in cloud infrastructure and digital transformation.
This latest work centers on protagonists pursuing clean slates, attempting to leave behind substance abuse or toxic relationships, only to find hope curdling into aggression. Chris Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "fresh start", rendering it deliberately jaded through its repetitions. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the story. Meanwhile, Kraus herself appears to be undertaking her personal new beginning, since this presents as a novel form of writing – observational, authentically narrative. Yet it proves to be laden with the familiar conflicts and aesthetics as past novels.
The writer began as an visual artist who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, which was composed of missives to a distant beloved, transforming confessional female writing from self-debasement into defiance. She kept producing books, but the next trio of fascinating and rebarbative novels did not possess the power and directness that the epistolary style imparted to the voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her role as a renegade artist who had become a major property owner, so there was significant attention on real estate deals. It follows that she currently desires to explore different types of content, turning outward to other people's stories, at a period in which she states that Trumpian politics makes confessional writing redundant.
The Four Spent the Day Together is organized into a trio of segments, spanning multiple eras – all unable to escape their pasts. The book includes the tale of Emma and Jasper, versions of her own mother and father, transitioning from the Bronx to a pastoral setting. Then there is the account of Kraus, in the guise of Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a town largely deserted by liberal ideals only a brief drive from the protagonist's home in rural Minnesota.
For this reader attracted to honed writing of the kind Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was seduced by the literary tone of the opening part.
As a reader who appreciates precise prose of the variety that Kraus tends to eschew, I was seduced by the literary tone of the initial part. There is a novel degree of detail that accommodates trivial aspects, like the container that the young Catt pries out of frozen water at the start of the story, aided by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she exclaims; "a lovely toy", he responds, "the elliptical meanings of words tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". She tells Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "Emma experienced a dreamlike sensation – not hers, exactly."
I was bound to become frustrated when I hoped this new voice could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the enjoyment readers like me have gotten from I Love Dick; she's devoted to disruption, to the untidy aesthetics she has in common with her idol Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her previous novels comes back in the middle section. The protagonist is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting her husband control his drinking. She is overwhelmed as her spouse cycles through low-resource employment as an recovery specialist in a world propelled by the rage and anxiety that underpins an electoral success. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on social media, her listed profession modified from "novelist" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she says that she's investigating the murder so that before departing the state, "she could potentially understand something about an the United States that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would not even see".
Then we reach to the murder itself – and the referenced day experienced by the deceased with the perpetrator and his friends. Kraus has compelling foundational content, and reconstructs step by step what happened when a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she marketed explicit images. He sought a sexual encounter but seems amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, wandering about getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being killed by gunfire by her romantic interest Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.
Catt develops an obsession by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards accurate chronicling and reckless transgression clash in this segment. Yet I wished her to go further into her personal fixations here. The compelling persona is the character Brittney, who becomes vivid partially because of Catt seeing herself in her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman going off the rails in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus tells us that Catt converses with Brittney in prison, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The complete segment feels curiously unresolved, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par
James Whitfield is a cloud technology analyst with over a decade of experience in cloud infrastructure and digital transformation.