This latest work centers on protagonists seeking clean slates, attempting to leave behind drugs or toxic relationships, only to witness hope devolve into aggression. Kraus often employs the phrase "clean slate", rendering it willfully cynical through its repetitions. Sentences like "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the text. At the same time, the author herself is embarking on her personal new beginning, as this seems a new kind of book – documentarian, authentically narrative. However it proves to be packed with the recurring issues and approaches as past novels.
The writer was originally an visual artist who transitioned to writing unintentionally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as epistles to an unresponsive love interest, elevating personal female narrative from humiliation into rebellion. She continued writing, but the following three engaging and challenging novels did not possess the impact and rawness that the correspondence format infused into the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her identity as a maverick maker who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was much discussion on housing investments. It makes sense that she presently aims to explore fresh narrative sources, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a time when she states that contemporary political climate turns intimate literature unnecessary.
The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, covering several time periods – all unable to escape their pasts. There is the story of a couple named Emma and Jasper, based on the author's parents, relocating from the New York borough to rural Connecticut. Then there is the narrative of the author, in the character of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the belated success of I Love Dick, the rise of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse a man named Paul. And there is the account of a killing of one troubled youth by another in a locality largely deserted by forward-thinking policies only a short distance from Catt's cottage in a remote part of Minnesota.
As a reader drawn to honed writing of the type Kraus herself typically rejects, I was captivated by the narrative style of the opening part.
As a reader who appreciates honed writing of the kind that the author tends to eschew, I was seduced by the literary tone of the initial part. There is a fresh level of observation that accommodates small details, like the pail 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 says; "a lovely toy", he answers, "the nuanced interpretations of terms rolling around in their mouths like hard candy". The author narrates the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not precisely her dream."
I was fated to feel let down when I expected this new voice could continue through the novel. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's committed to disruption, to the untidy aesthetics she has in common with her idol writer Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her previous novels comes back in the central part. Catt is working on refurbishing 36 run-down apartments in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between Minnesota and LA, unsuccessful in assisting her husband manage his alcohol use. She is overwhelmed as Paul cycles through low-resource employment as an substance abuse counselor in a world fueled by the rage and anxiety that drives a political win. A significant portion discusses about Catt's social media ostracism on social media, her listed profession modified from "writer" to "landlord" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to be overly concerned about this. In a moment she remarks that she's looking into the killing so that before departing the state, "she may grasp something about an the United States that her social media opponents would fail to comprehend, would not even perceive".
Thus we arrive to the homicide in question – and the titular day experienced by the victim with the perpetrator and his friends. Kraus has great source material, and knows hour by hour what transpired when the victim Brandon came to visit Brittney after connecting via an application where she marketed explicit images. He anticipated intimacy but seems affably to have spent the day in the company of her associates, wandering about having his vehicle repaired and paying for snacks and drugs, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend 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 ethical reporting and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. Yet I wished her to go further into her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who becomes vivid in part due to Catt seeing herself in her – a similarly gifted, tormented individual derailing in a struggling, neglected community. The author informs us that Catt converses with Brittney in prison, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the point that her narrative ends almost mid-par
Elena Hartwell is a multidisciplinary artist and educator passionate about fostering creative communities in London.