The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with protagonists chasing after new beginnings, struggling to escape substance abuse or abusive marriages, only to find hope curdling into conflict. Kraus repeatedly invokes the phrase "new beginning", rendering it deliberately jaded through recurring use. Phrases such as "He aimed to start over" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the narrative. And yet, she seems to be making her personal new beginning, since this presents as a new kind of book – fact-based, genuinely novelistic. But then it proves to be laden with the familiar conflicts and styles as past novels.
The writer was originally an visual artist who entered the literary world somewhat by chance with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, structured as letters to an unreceptive lover, elevating intimate women's literature from self-debasement into assassination. She kept producing books, but the three subsequent engaging and challenging novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the letter form imparted to the tone of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her identity as a renegade artist who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It is logical that she now wants to explore new kinds of material, directing her gaze to other people's stories, at a time when she asserts that Trumpian politics renders personal narrative unnecessary.
The Four Spent the Day Together is structured in three parts, spanning multiple eras – each trapped by their backgrounds. There is the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of her own mother and father, moving from the urban environment to rural Connecticut. Additionally the account of Kraus, in the guise of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the belated success of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her partner struggling with addiction her husband Paul. The third thread involves the narrative of a homicide of one troubled youth by another in a town long abandoned by progressive politics only a brief drive from Catt's cottage in a remote part of Minnesota.
As a reader fond of polished prose of the sort Kraus often avoids, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the opening part.
As a reader drawn to honed writing of the variety that Kraus herself tends to eschew, I was captivated by the storytelling approach of the first section. There is a fresh level of observation that makes room for trivial aspects, like the container that the protagonist as a child frees from the ice at the beginning of the narrative, assisted by her beloved father. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she exclaims; "a great plaything", he answers, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like hard candy". The author narrates the tale of Emma with inquiry and familiarity. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not hers, exactly."
I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this new voice could persist to the end. Kraus says here that she dislikes the satisfaction readers like me have derived from I Love Dick; she's devoted to fragmentation, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her hero writer Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her previous novels reasserts itself in the central part. The protagonist is working on refurbishing multiple decrepit residences in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between the Midwest and the West Coast, failing to help Paul manage his alcohol use. She experiences powerlessness as Paul moves between poorly supported positions as an addiction therapist in a society driven by the hostility and dread that underpins an electoral success. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt being cancelled on Twitter, her professional designation altered from "novelist" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. She still gives the impression to invest excessive emotion about this. On one occasion she states that she's researching the homicide so that before departing the state, "she could potentially understand something about an America that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would not even see".
Thus we arrive to the actual killing – and the titular day experienced by the murdered individual with the perpetrator and his friends. Kraus has compelling foundational content, and details moment by moment what happened when the victim Brandon came to see Brittney after encountering her on a platform where she offered adult photos. He was hoping for sex but seems amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, loitering getting his car mended and covering the cost of food and substances, before being shot by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has often been institutionalized for fits of anger.
The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. However, I would have preferred her to delve deeper into her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is the character Brittney, who gains dimension partly through Catt's identification with her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual spiraling out of control in a troubled, forgotten town. The author informs us that Catt converses with Brittney in detention, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The complete segment feels oddly unfinished, to the degree that the author's storytelling ends almost mid-par
A lifelong gamer and tech enthusiast, Elias writes about gaming culture and industry developments from a UK perspective.