Miranda July – All Fours (2024)

September 2024 • Fiction

In Miranda July's latest novel, its nameless main character (a 'half-famous' artist) sets out to drive across the United States to celebrate her 45th birthday. She leaves her husband and child behind, promises to update them on her progress and, through a series of rapid decisions, she winds up in Monrovia, the next town over.

In Monrovia, where she stopped for gas, she meets a man—more of a boy, perhaps, given their age difference—named Davey, who washes the windshield of her car. They make eye-contact, which is enough for her to rent a motel room nearby, visit him at his workplace, and contract his partner to give her room in that motel a make-over, paid for with money she earned writing a slogan for a whisky brand—money intended to finance her trip across the country. She makes the room her own, her safe haven: a lush, protective, womb-like retreat in which she lives out a parallel life while teetering on the edge of a mid-life crisis.

There, she receives Davey, embraces Davey, engulfs him (as much as he lets her), and keeps up appearances: she informs her husband and child of the progress she's made on her road trip and sends them selfies taken in front of make-believe skylines. When she finally makes it home, still head over heels, she doesn't know how to behave and makes up a story about how perimenopause is affecting her: a story that, days later, catches up with her when a doctor confirms she is, in fact, suffering from perimenopause, causing her to recalibrate her life and relationship in major ways.

While it may sound like I'm giving away a lot, I'm merely scratching the surface here. All Fours is an incredibly engrossing read, bursting with (mostly unconsumed) sexual energy, filled with (mostly unrequited) love and riddled with fantastic dialogue and inner monologues. It's a story about a woman who has the power and the privilege to turn her life around, who knows she's risking it all to do so, and tries nonetheless. She doesn't know how she'll come out at the other end of the tunnel but plunges in, head-first, eager to find out.

As I read its final pages, a song from Kajillionaire (the film directed by Miranda July) came on in a playlist I was listening to, which prompted me to re-watch it. Doing so made me realise how much the idea of loneliness—or of wanting to be loved—seems to be a common theme in July's work, and how much this book and that movie have in common. The protagonists in All Fours and Kajillionaire are both trying to find a sense of connection but without compromising too much, which makes them stand out. They both seem a little lost, and a little lonely—drifters, if you will—but that's the price they pay for being their authentic selves.

Above all, both works—once again—made me appreciate the sheer originality of July. When she first arrived at the scene her work was often called quirky (for the sake of), even gimmicky—I was guilty of this, too. But the more I take in her (film and writing) work, the more I realise she is a masterful and unstoppable artist.

Here we are, witnessing her perfecting her craft.

All Fours by Miranda July
Published by Canongate in 2024

One book recommendation, once per month.
Book #19 • September 2024