The Four Spent the Day Together is populated with individuals pursuing new beginnings, attempting to leave behind substance abuse or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into conflict. Kraus frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", making it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Examples include "He could make a fresh start" and "They decided to make a fresh start" are scattered across the narrative. Meanwhile, the author herself seems to be making her own fresh start, since this seems a different type of work – observational, authentically narrative. But then it reveals itself to be laden with the recurring issues and aesthetics as her previous works.
From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work
Kraus was originally an artist who became a writer unintentionally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as epistles to an unresponsive love interest, elevating intimate women's literature from self-debasement into assassination. She persisted as a writer, but the following three compelling and abrasive novels lacked the shock and immediacy that the epistolary style brought to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a maverick maker who had turned into a major property owner, so there was much discussion on real estate deals. It is logical that she presently aims to try out fresh narrative sources, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a time when she asserts that contemporary political climate makes confessional writing redundant.
Three Generations, Shared Inescapable History
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, spanning multiple eras – all unable to escape their histories. We encounter the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, representations of Kraus's parents, moving from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the persona of Catt Greene, grappling with the belated success of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse Paul. Finally the story of the murder of one lost young man by another in a locality long abandoned by liberal ideals only a brief drive from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.
From my perspective as a reader attracted to refined literature of the sort Kraus herself often avoids, I was enchanted by the narrative style of the first section.
Being a reader who appreciates crafted language of the kind that Kraus often disregards, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the opening segment. It exhibits a novel degree of detail that makes room for trivial aspects, like the container that the protagonist as a child dislodges from ice at the beginning of the narrative, assisted by her cherished parent. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a great plaything", he replies, "the nuanced interpretations of terms rolling around in their mouths like piece candy". The author narrates Emma's narrative with inquiry and familiarity. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not hers, exactly."
Letdown and Fragmentation
I was fated to feel let down when I hoped this different style could continue through the novel. The author states here that she resents the pleasure audiences such as myself have derived from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she shares with her inspiration writer Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her earlier works reasserts itself in the central part. Catt is working on refurbishing 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting her husband control his drinking. She experiences powerlessness as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a environment propelled by the rage and anxiety that underpins a political win. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her professional designation altered from "writer" to "property owner" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to be overly concerned about this. At one point she states that she's researching the homicide so that before leaving Minnesota, "she might be able to learn something about an America that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would overlook entirely".
The Killing Story
So then we come to the actual killing – and the titular day spent by the murdered individual with the killer and his friends. Kraus has excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what transpired when the victim Brandon came to meet Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He was hoping for sex but seems affably to have spent the day alongside her friends, wandering about fixing his automobile and funding treats and narcotics, before being murdered by Brittney's partner Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has repeatedly received inpatient care for violent rage.
Obsession and Unfinished Business
The protagonist becomes fixated by the story, and I found myself captivated by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards accurate chronicling and audacious rule-breaking clash in this segment. However, I would have preferred her to go further into her own obsessions here. The standout figure is Brittney herself, who comes alive partly through Catt's identification with her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual spiraling out of control in a troubled, forgotten town. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. The whole section feels strangely incomplete, to the extent that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par
