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The new book is populated with protagonists seeking clean slates, attempting to leave behind substance abuse or toxic relationships, only to see hope turn into conflict. Kraus often employs the phrase "clean slate", rendering it intentionally weary through recurring use. Sentences like "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They decided to make a fresh start" appear throughout the text. At the same time, Kraus herself is embarking on her own fresh start, because this appears a new kind of book – documentarian, genuinely novelistic. Yet it turns out to be packed with the familiar conflicts and approaches as past novels.

From Chance Novelist to Iconic Work

Chris Kraus began as an visual artist who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, converting personal female narrative from self-debasement into defiance. She persisted as a writer, but the next trio of engaging and challenging novels lacked the impact and rawness that the letter form imparted to the tone of I Love Dick. This was not aided by was her role as a nonconformist creator who had become a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was significant attention on real estate deals. It makes sense that she currently desires to try out new kinds of material, looking outwards to the experiences of others, at a time when she asserts that contemporary political climate turns intimate literature unnecessary.

Three Generations, One Unescapable Past

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, covering several time periods – all unable to escape their backgrounds. We encounter the story of Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, transitioning from the Bronx to rural Connecticut. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the delayed acclaim of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband Paul. The third thread involves the account of a killing of one directionless individual by another in a community mostly forsaken by progressive politics only a brief drive from Catt's cottage in a remote part of Minnesota.

For this reader fond of polished prose of the type Kraus typically rejects, I was seduced by the narrative style of the initial segment.

Being a reader drawn to precise prose of the style that Kraus often disregards, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the first section. It exhibits a new quality of attentiveness that allows space for small details, like the container that the youthful Catt dislodges from ice at the opening of the book, helped by her beloved father. "I found an ice toy!" she declares; "a lovely toy", he answers, "the nuanced interpretations of terms rolling around in their mouths like sweet treats". Kraus writes the tale of Emma with curiosity and intimacy. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not hers, exactly."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was fated to feel let down when I expected this fresh tone could continue through the novel. Kraus says here that she dislikes the pleasure readers like me have derived from I Love Dick; she's committed to disjunction, to the untidy aesthetics she has in common with her idol author Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her previous novels comes back in the second segment. The protagonist is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, unable to aid her husband manage his alcohol use. She feels helpless as Paul cycles through underfunded jobs as an substance abuse counselor in a world fueled by the rage and anxiety that powers Trump's victory. Multiple pages are devoted about Catt's social media ostracism on Twitter, her professional designation altered from "writer" to "property owner" on Wikipedia. Kraus still seems to be overly concerned about this. At one point she remarks that she's looking into the killing so that before exiting the region, "she might be able to learn something about an America that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would not even see".

The Homicide Account

So then we come to the actual killing – and the referenced day spent by the victim with the killer and his friends. Kraus has excellent raw material, and knows hour by hour what transpired when a man named Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she offered adult photos. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day alongside her friends, wandering about having his vehicle repaired and funding treats and narcotics, before being murdered by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has frequently been hospitalised for aggressive outbursts.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

The protagonist becomes fixated by the narrative, and I found myself captivated by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to go further into her individual preoccupations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who becomes vivid in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she fails to enact these dialogues. This entire part feels curiously unresolved, to the point that her narrative ends almost mid-par