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The Four Spent the Day Together centers on characters pursuing new beginnings, trying to break free from addictions or toxic relationships, only to find hope curdling into conflict. Kraus often employs the phrase "fresh start", making it deliberately jaded through constant reiteration. Examples include "He aimed to start over" and "They opted for a clean break" recur in the narrative. At the same time, the author herself appears to be undertaking her own fresh start, since this appears a new kind of book – fact-based, truly literary. But then it proves to be packed with the same dilemmas and aesthetics as earlier books.

From Accidental Writer to Iconic Work

The writer started out as an creative who entered the literary world almost accidentally with her 1997 cult classic I Love Dick, structured as missives to a distant beloved, converting personal female narrative from self-debasement into assassination. She kept producing books, but the following three compelling and abrasive novels did not possess the power and directness that the epistolary style imparted to the narrative voice of I Love Dick. It didn't help was her role as a nonconformist creator who had turned into a large-scale low-rent landlord, so there was considerable focus on housing investments. It makes sense that she currently desires to experiment with different types of content, turning outward to the experiences of others, at a time when she asserts that current political era renders personal narrative unnecessary.

Three Generations, One Unescapable Past

The Four Spent the Day Together is divided into three sections, spanning multiple eras – each trapped by their pasts. We encounter the narrative about a couple named Emma and Jasper, versions of Kraus's parents, transitioning from the Bronx to the Connecticut countryside. Then there is the story of Kraus herself, in the character of Catt Greene, confronting the belated success of I Love Dick, the ascent of a political figure, and her addict husband a man named Paul. Finally the story of the murder of one directionless individual by another in a community mostly forsaken by progressive politics only 80 miles from Catt's cottage in a remote part of Minnesota.

From my perspective as a reader drawn to refined literature of the sort Kraus herself often avoids, I was seduced by the narrative style of the opening part.

As someone who reads who favors precise prose of the kind that Kraus usually avoids, I was seduced by the novelistic voice of the opening segment. There is a new quality of attentiveness that accommodates trivial aspects, like the pail that the protagonist as a child pries out of frozen water at the beginning of the narrative, aided by her beloved father. "I found an ice toy!" she declares; "a nice toy", he responds, "the elliptical meanings of words circulating in their speech like piece candy". Kraus writes Emma's narrative with interest and closeness. "Emma felt like she'd stepped into a dream – not precisely her dream."

Disappointment and Disjunction

I was fated to feel let down when I expected this fresh tone could persist to the end. Kraus says here that she dislikes the satisfaction those who appreciate polished prose have taken from I Love Dick; she's dedicated to disjunction, to the unpolished style she has in common with her inspiration Kathy Acker, and the blankness and repetitiveness of her previous novels comes back in the second segment. The protagonist is attempting to do up three dozen dilapidated units in Albuquerque's worst neighbourhoods while shuttling between the Midwest and the West Coast, unsuccessful in assisting Paul manage his alcohol use. She feels helpless as Paul moves between underfunded jobs as an recovery specialist in a environment propelled by the hostility and dread that powers Trump's victory. A significant portion discusses about Catt being cancelled on a platform, her occupation changed from "author" to "property owner" on a reference site. Kraus still seems to care a little too much about this. On one occasion she states that she's researching the homicide so that before departing the state, "she may grasp something about an the nation that her Twitter detractors 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 killer and his companions. Kraus utilizes excellent raw material, and details moment by moment what transpired when the victim Brandon came to meet Brittney after meeting her on an app where she sold sex pictures. He was hoping for sex but seems amiably to have occupied the day with her companions, mooching around getting his car mended and funding treats and narcotics, before being shot by Brittney's boyfriend Micah – a young, mentally ill man who has frequently been hospitalised for fits of anger.

Fascination and Incompletion

The protagonist becomes fixated by the account, and I was intrigued by the way that the author's conflicting impulses towards ethical reporting and audacious rule-breaking tussle in this section. But I'd have liked her to delve deeper into her personal fixations here. The standout figure is Brittney, who gains dimension partly through the protagonist's connection to her – another bright, bullied girl spiraling out of control in a troubled, forgotten town. The author informs us that the protagonist communicates with Brittney in jail, but she omits the dramatization of these talks. This entire part feels strangely incomplete, to the degree that Kraus's narration ends almost mid-par