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The new book features individuals pursuing fresh starts, struggling to escape substance abuse or harmful partnerships, only to witness hope devolve into conflict. Chris Kraus often employs the phrase "new beginning", making it intentionally weary through its repetitions. Examples include "He aimed to start over" and "They chose to begin anew" appear throughout the narrative. And yet, Kraus herself is embarking on her individual reinvention, since this appears a new kind of book – fact-based, truly literary. Yet it reveals itself to be packed with the familiar conflicts and styles as past novels.

From Accidental Writer to Cult Classic

Chris Kraus was originally an artist who transitioned to writing almost accidentally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, which was composed of missives to a distant beloved, converting personal female narrative from self-debasement into defiance. She continued writing, but the next trio of engaging and challenging novels missed the power and directness that the epistolary style brought to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. Compounding this was her position as a nonconformist creator who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on property transactions. It makes sense that she now wants to try out new kinds of material, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a period in which she claims that current political era turns intimate literature unnecessary.

Several Eras, Shared Inescapable History

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, covering three generations – none able to break free from their pasts. We encounter the tale of Emma and Jasper, representations of her own mother and father, moving from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the character of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband her husband Paul. Finally the account of a killing of one lost young man by another in a town mostly forsaken by liberal ideals only a brief drive from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.

From my perspective as a reader drawn to honed writing of the kind Kraus often avoids, I was captivated by the narrative style of the first section.

As a reader who appreciates precise prose of the kind that Kraus often disregards, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the initial part. There is a fresh level of observation that makes room for trivial aspects, like the pail that the youthful Catt frees from the ice at the beginning of the narrative, helped by her beloved father. "Look, an ice toy!" she declares; "a great plaything", he replies, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like piece candy". Kraus writes Emma's story with interest and closeness. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not hers, exactly."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was fated to feel let down when I wished this fresh tone could persist to the end. Kraus notes here that she is annoyed by the enjoyment readers like me have derived from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she has in common with her idol Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her past books returns in the central part. Catt Greene is attempting to do up multiple decrepit residences in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while moving between the Midwest and the West Coast, unable to aid Paul curb his addiction. She feels helpless as her spouse moves between poorly supported positions as an recovery specialist in a world fueled by the anger and fear that powers Trump's victory. There are several pages about the protagonist facing cancellation on social media, her professional designation altered from "writer" to "landlord" on the online encyclopedia. The author still appears to invest excessive emotion 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 Twitter detractors would not understand, would not even perceive".

The Homicide Account

So then we come to the actual killing – and the referenced day experienced by the murdered individual with the murderer and his associates. The author possesses great source material, and details moment by moment what occurred as Brandon came to see Brittney after meeting her on an app where she offered adult photos. He was hoping for sex but appears congenially to have passed the day alongside her friends, mooching around having his vehicle repaired and paying for snacks and drugs, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a youth with psychological issues who has repeatedly received inpatient care for violent rage.

Preoccupation and Open Ends

Catt gets obsessed by the narrative, and I was fascinated by the way that her twin drives towards ethical reporting and reckless transgression tussle in this section. Yet I wished her to delve deeper into her own obsessions here. The compelling persona is the character Brittney, who becomes vivid partly through Catt's identification with her – another bright, bullied girl derailing in a difficult, overlooked locality. Kraus tells us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she fails to enact these dialogues. The whole section feels oddly unfinished, to the point that her narrative ends almost mid-par