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The new book is populated with characters seeking new beginnings, attempting to leave behind drugs or harmful partnerships, only to find hope curdling into aggression. Kraus often employs the phrase "new beginning", making it deliberately jaded through recurring use. Phrases such as "He could make a fresh start" and "They opted for a clean break" are scattered across the text. And yet, the author herself appears to be undertaking her individual reinvention, because this appears a novel form of writing – documentarian, truly literary. But then it turns out to be filled with the familiar conflicts and styles as past novels.

From Unplanned Author to Iconic Work

Chris Kraus was originally an artist who became a writer almost accidentally with her 1997 groundbreaking book I Love Dick, structured as epistles to an unresponsive love interest, transforming confessional female writing from self-debasement into assassination. She continued writing, but the next trio of fascinating and rebarbative novels lacked the power and directness that the epistolary style imparted to the voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her position as a maverick maker who had evolved into a extensive real estate holder, so there was significant attention on housing investments. It follows that she now wants to explore different types of content, looking outwards to external narratives, at a moment when she claims that Trumpian politics turns intimate literature unnecessary.

Three Generations, Shared Inescapable History

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, spanning several time periods – each trapped by their backgrounds. There is the tale of Emma and Jasper, versions of her own mother and father, transitioning from the urban environment to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the guise of protagonist Catt Greene, grappling with the late recognition of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband Paul. The third thread involves the narrative of a homicide of one lost young man by another in a locality mostly forsaken by progressive politics only a brief drive from Catt's rural residence in the Minnesota countryside.

As a reader attracted to polished prose of the type the author herself tends to eschew, I was seduced by the narrative style of the opening part.

As someone who reads who appreciates crafted language of the style that Kraus herself usually avoids, I was won over by the storytelling approach of the first section. There is a novel degree of detail that allows space for minutiae, like the container that the protagonist as a child frees from the ice at the start of the story, helped by her adored dad. "I found an ice toy!" she declares; "a lovely toy", he replies, "the ambiguous meanings of language tumbling in their mouths like sweet treats". Kraus writes Emma's narrative with inquiry and familiarity. "It seemed to Emma she had entered a dream – not precisely her dream."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was destined to be disappointed when I hoped this different style could continue through the novel. Kraus says here that she resents the pleasure audiences such as myself have gotten from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disruption, to the messy artistic approach she echoes from her hero writer Kathy Acker, and the void and recurrence of her earlier works comes back in the second segment. Catt is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in the most troubled areas of Albuquerque while moving between Minnesota and LA, failing to help Paul curb his addiction. She is overwhelmed as Paul cycles through poorly supported positions as an substance abuse counselor in a world propelled by the hostility and dread that underpins an electoral success. There are several pages about the protagonist facing cancellation on Twitter, her listed profession modified from "writer" to "landlord" on a reference site. The author still appears to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she remarks that she's looking into the killing so that before leaving Minnesota, "she might be able to learn something about an the nation that her online critics would fail to comprehend, would not even see".

The Homicide Account

Then we reach to the actual killing – and the referenced day experienced by the deceased with the murderer and his companions. Kraus has great source material, and reconstructs step by step what happened when a man named Brandon came to meet Brittney after meeting her on an app where she sold sex pictures. He anticipated intimacy but seems amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, wandering about fixing his automobile and funding treats and narcotics, before being killed by gunfire by her romantic interest a man named Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has repeatedly received inpatient care for aggressive outbursts.

Obsession and Unfinished Business

Catt develops an obsession by the narrative, and I was intrigued by the way that Kraus's dual urges towards responsible documentation and reckless transgression clash in this segment. Yet I wished her to delve deeper into her individual preoccupations here. The standout figure is Brittney herself, who comes alive partially because of Catt seeing herself in her – yet another intelligent, harassed young woman going off the rails in a struggling, neglected community. Kraus notes that Catt speaks to Brittney in detention, but she doesn't dramatise these conversations. The complete segment feels curiously unresolved, to the point that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par