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This latest work centers on protagonists seeking new beginnings, attempting to leave behind addictions or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into aggression. Chris Kraus frequently uses the phrase "clean slate", rendering it deliberately jaded through constant reiteration. Phrases such as "He was ready for a new beginning" and "They opted for a clean break" appear throughout the text. And yet, she is embarking on her personal new beginning, because this appears a novel form of writing – documentarian, truly literary. But then it reveals itself to be filled with the recurring issues and styles as past novels.

From Chance Novelist to Cult Classic

The writer was originally an creative who became a writer almost accidentally with her 1997 seminal work I Love Dick, made up of missives to a distant beloved, converting intimate women's literature from humiliation into defiance. She kept producing books, but the three subsequent compelling and abrasive novels missed the impact and rawness that the letter form brought to the tone of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a nonconformist creator who had evolved into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was much discussion on housing investments. It follows that she now wants to explore fresh narrative sources, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a period in which she claims that contemporary political climate renders personal narrative unnecessary.

Several Eras, One Unescapable Past

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, encompassing three generations – each trapped by their backgrounds. We encounter the narrative about characters Emma and Jasper, versions of the author's parents, relocating from the Bronx to rural Connecticut. Then there is the account of Kraus, in the guise of a figure named Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the emergence of Trump, and her substance-dependent spouse her husband Paul. And there is the story of the murder of one lost young man by another in a town long abandoned by forward-thinking policies only 80 miles from the protagonist's home in a remote part of Minnesota.

From my perspective as a reader fond of polished prose of the sort the author herself typically rejects, I was seduced by the narrative style of the first section.

As someone who reads drawn to honed writing of the kind that Kraus often disregards, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the first section. It possesses a new quality of attentiveness that accommodates small details, like the bucket that the young Catt frees from the ice at the beginning of the narrative, helped by her beloved father. "I discovered a frozen plaything!" she declares; "a lovely toy", he answers, "the elliptical meanings of words circulating in their speech like piece candy". The author narrates Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not entirely her own."

Letdown and Fragmentation

I was fated to feel let down when I wished this fresh tone could last out the book. Kraus says here that she resents the satisfaction readers like me have gotten from I Love Dick; she's committed to fragmentation, to the untidy aesthetics she has in common with her inspiration author Kathy Acker, and the emptiness and redundancy of her past books reasserts itself in the second segment. Catt Greene is trying to renovate multiple decrepit residences in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while traveling between Minnesota and LA, unable to aid her husband curb his addiction. She is overwhelmed as Paul transitions between poorly supported positions as an recovery specialist in a society fueled by the rage and anxiety that underpins Trump's victory. There are several pages about Catt's social media ostracism on a platform, her listed profession modified from "author" to "property owner" on the online encyclopedia. Kraus still seems to invest excessive emotion about this. On one occasion she states that she's investigating the murder so that before leaving Minnesota, "she may grasp something about an America that her Twitter detractors would fail to comprehend, would not even see".

The Killing Story

So then we come to the homicide in question – and the referenced day experienced by the murdered individual with the murderer and his associates. Kraus utilizes great source material, and knows hour by hour what happened when the victim Brandon came to meet Brittney after connecting via an application where she sold sex pictures. He was hoping for sex but appears congenially to have passed the day alongside her friends, loitering fixing his automobile and covering the cost of food and substances, before being murdered by Brittney's partner Micah – a individual with mental health challenges who has often been institutionalized for aggressive outbursts.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

Catt develops an obsession by the account, and I found myself captivated by the way that her twin drives towards responsible documentation and daring boundary-pushing wrestle in this part. But I'd have liked her to explore more thoroughly her individual preoccupations here. The most interesting character is Brittney, who gains dimension in part due to the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus notes that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in prison, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels curiously unresolved, to the extent that her narrative ends almost mid-par