Cover of All Fours
    Fiction

    All Fours

    by July;, Miranda
    Miranda July’s 2024 novel All Fours follows a 45-year-old semi-famous artist who disrupts her stable Los Angeles life with her husband and child by impulsively announcing a cross-country road trip. The journey becomes a catalyst for self-discovery as she grapples with midlife crises, sexual awakening, and perimenopause, culminating in an unexpected affair. Blending humor and poignancy, the novel explores themes of desire, identity, and the search for reinvention in middle age. July’s autofictional style and candid portrayal of female experience have drawn comparisons to a “perimenopause novel,” marking it as a distinctive entry in contemporary literature.

    The chap­ter opens with a con­ver­sa­tion between the nar­ra­tor and Tim Yoon, who men­tions his daugh­ter’s recent wed­ding. The nar­ra­tor reveals they no longer need help with license plates, hav­ing solved the mys­tery of a tele­pho­tog­ra­ph­er and a real estate card. The dis­cus­sion shifts to Bri­an, a for­mer neigh­bor who con­nect­ed them, and the shock­ing rev­e­la­tion that Bri­an has died from kid­ney failure—not in the line of duty as assumed. This news adds a lay­er of melan­choly, espe­cial­ly as the nar­ra­tor reflects on Bri­an sell­ing his truck while ter­mi­nal­ly ill. The exchange under­scores the unpre­dictabil­i­ty of life and the fragili­ty of assump­tions.

    Lat­er, the nar­ra­tor shares the dis­cov­er­ies with Har­ris, who responds with detached sym­pa­thy. Their con­ver­sa­tion briefly touch­es on the real estate card’s pric­ing and the eerie pho­to of the nar­ra­tor tak­en by the tele­pho­tog­ra­ph­er. Har­ris’s terse reac­tion and sud­den depar­ture cre­ate ten­sion, leav­ing the nar­ra­tor con­fused. The dynam­ic between them is strained, with Har­ris’s cryp­tic behav­ior hint­ing at unre­solved issues. The nar­ra­tor’s deci­sion to stand half-naked in the liv­ing room, almost defi­ant­ly, adds to the charged atmos­phere, cul­mi­nat­ing in Har­ris’s return and a shift toward an unset­tling role-play sce­nario.

    The inter­ac­tion esca­lates as Har­ris assumes the per­sona of the tele­pho­tog­ra­ph­er, show­ing the nar­ra­tor pho­tos he took of her through the win­dow. The nar­ra­tor, both aroused and uneasy, engages in the fan­ta­sy, though Har­ris’s anger sim­mers beneath the sur­face. The role-play blurs lines between real­i­ty and imag­i­na­tion, with the nar­ra­tor strug­gling to main­tain the illu­sion while con­fronting Har­ris’s pal­pa­ble resent­ment. The scene is fraught with ten­sion, as the nar­ra­tor grap­ples with the dis­so­nance between her desires and the under­ly­ing hos­til­i­ty in their rela­tion­ship.

    The chap­ter con­cludes with a raw and intense sex­u­al encounter, where the nar­ra­tor attempts to embody the “good-time girl” per­sona Har­ris seems to demand. The phys­i­cal act becomes a bat­tle­ground of emo­tions, mix­ing plea­sure with pain and sub­mis­sion with defi­ance. The nar­ra­tor’s inter­nal mono­logue reveals her des­per­a­tion to rec­on­cile fan­ta­sy with real­i­ty, cul­mi­nat­ing in a moment of alchem­i­cal transformation—where body and mind merge into some­thing new. The chap­ter ends on a note of unre­solved ten­sion, leav­ing the nar­ra­tor and Har­ris’s rela­tion­ship in a pre­car­i­ous and ambigu­ous state.

    FAQs

    • 1. How does the revelation about Brian’s death impact the narrator’s understanding of past events?

      Answer:
      The narrator initially believed Brian was an active FBI agent who was moving away when selling his truck, but learns from Tim Yoon that Brian had actually quit the FBI due to a kidney disease and was dying (page 246). This reframes Brian’s actions—the truck sale wasn’t for relocation but likely to manage end-of-life affairs. The narrator’s shock (“I gasped”) underscores how this revelation reshapes her perception of their interactions, adding a layer of tragedy to what she previously interpreted as mundane.

      2. Analyze the significance of role-playing in the narrator’s sexual encounter with Harris. How does it reflect their relationship dynamics?

      Answer:
      The role-play scenario—where Harris pretends to be the “telephotographer” and the narrator acts as a “good-time girl”—reveals their strained intimacy and unspoken tensions (pages 247–248). Harris’s anger (“still furious”) leaks into the performance, while the narrator struggles to reconcile fantasy with reality. The dynamic highlights their disconnect: she seeks emotional/sexual validation through imagined scenarios, while he engages mechanically. The phrase “He’ll never know the difference” ironically underscores their mutual dishonesty, as both avoid addressing their real marital issues.

      3. What symbolic role does the real estate card play in the chapter?

      Answer:
      The real estate card (priced at “one point eight” million) serves as a catalyst for confrontation and fantasy (pages 246–247). It physically represents intrusion (the photographer’s voyeurism) and becomes a prop for Harris’s role-play. The image of the narrator—captured without her knowledge—mirrors her vulnerability in the marriage. Later, Harris’s fixation on the photo (“Is that you?”) and his subsequent voyeuristic reenactment (“took out his phone and showed me the pictures”) suggest how their relationship is mediated through external gazes and performances rather than authentic connection.

      4. How does the chapter explore themes of performance and identity? Provide textual evidence.

      Answer:
      Performance permeates the chapter: Brian’s FBI uniform (worn despite quitting), Harris’s unconvincing role-play (“didn’t do a whole lot to get into character”), and the narrator’s forced enactment of a “good-time girl” (pages 247–248). The narrator’s internal monologue—”how could I think with him right there?“—reveals her dissociation, as she struggles to merge her fantasy self with reality. Even Harris’s terse dialogue (“Just wear something else”) feels scripted. These performances highlight characters hiding behind roles to avoid confronting truths (e.g., Brian’s illness, marital dissatisfaction).

      5. Evaluate the narrator’s emotional response to Harris’s behavior in the final scene. What does it suggest about her agency?

      Answer:
      The narrator’s conflicted reactions—arousal (“stupidly wet”) mixed with detachment (“tentatively ran my hands”)—show her compromised agency (page 248). She submits to Harris’s script (“Fuck me. Please…”) but notes the “acrid scent” of reality, suggesting dissonance. Her earlier defiance (“if this was a test then I would stand there for the rest of my life”) collapses into performative compliance, revealing how her autonomy is eroded by her desire for connection. The scene’s unresolved tension (“Everything was build[ing]”) mirrors her trapped state, neither fully empowered nor passive.

    Quotes

    • 1. “That’s why he was selling his truck. He wasn’t moving; he was dying.”

      This poignant realization captures the chapter’s theme of hidden truths and the contrast between appearances and reality. It marks a turning point where the protagonist understands her former neighbor’s tragic situation.

      2. “Each word said like a dollar he wished he was spending elsewhere.”

      This vivid description perfectly encapsulates Harris’s emotional detachment and the strained dynamic between the characters. It highlights the protagonist’s frustration with her partner’s lack of engagement.

      3. “This was almost an actual conversation. And there was a strange feeling in the air; I couldn’t put my finger on it.”

      This quote represents a key moment of tension and anticipation in the chapter, where the protagonist senses a shift in the relationship dynamic that will lead to the subsequent intimate encounter.

      4. “As with Audra there was a sort of salty-and-sweet combination of body and mind that made a brand-new thing, like alchemy. Or sex.”

      This metaphorical description captures the chapter’s exploration of physical intimacy as a transformative experience. It represents the protagonist’s complex relationship with both fantasy and reality in her sexual experiences.

      5. “I desperately tried to remember what I’d be doing if this were happening in my head.”

      This introspective moment reveals the protagonist’s struggle to reconcile fantasy with reality during the sexual encounter, highlighting the chapter’s central theme of the blurred lines between imagination and actual experience.

    Quotes

    1. “That’s why he was selling his truck. He wasn’t moving; he was dying.”

    This poignant realization captures the chapter’s theme of hidden truths and the contrast between appearances and reality. It marks a turning point where the protagonist understands her former neighbor’s tragic situation.

    2. “Each word said like a dollar he wished he was spending elsewhere.”

    This vivid description perfectly encapsulates Harris’s emotional detachment and the strained dynamic between the characters. It highlights the protagonist’s frustration with her partner’s lack of engagement.

    3. “This was almost an actual conversation. And there was a strange feeling in the air; I couldn’t put my finger on it.”

    This quote represents a key moment of tension and anticipation in the chapter, where the protagonist senses a shift in the relationship dynamic that will lead to the subsequent intimate encounter.

    4. “As with Audra there was a sort of salty-and-sweet combination of body and mind that made a brand-new thing, like alchemy. Or sex.”

    This metaphorical description captures the chapter’s exploration of physical intimacy as a transformative experience. It represents the protagonist’s complex relationship with both fantasy and reality in her sexual experiences.

    5. “I desperately tried to remember what I’d be doing if this were happening in my head.”

    This introspective moment reveals the protagonist’s struggle to reconcile fantasy with reality during the sexual encounter, highlighting the chapter’s central theme of the blurred lines between imagination and actual experience.

    FAQs

    1. How does the revelation about Brian’s death impact the narrator’s understanding of past events?

    Answer:
    The narrator initially believed Brian was an active FBI agent who was moving away when selling his truck, but learns from Tim Yoon that Brian had actually quit the FBI due to a kidney disease and was dying (page 246). This reframes Brian’s actions—the truck sale wasn’t for relocation but likely to manage end-of-life affairs. The narrator’s shock (“I gasped”) underscores how this revelation reshapes her perception of their interactions, adding a layer of tragedy to what she previously interpreted as mundane.

    2. Analyze the significance of role-playing in the narrator’s sexual encounter with Harris. How does it reflect their relationship dynamics?

    Answer:
    The role-play scenario—where Harris pretends to be the “telephotographer” and the narrator acts as a “good-time girl”—reveals their strained intimacy and unspoken tensions (pages 247–248). Harris’s anger (“still furious”) leaks into the performance, while the narrator struggles to reconcile fantasy with reality. The dynamic highlights their disconnect: she seeks emotional/sexual validation through imagined scenarios, while he engages mechanically. The phrase “He’ll never know the difference” ironically underscores their mutual dishonesty, as both avoid addressing their real marital issues.

    3. What symbolic role does the real estate card play in the chapter?

    Answer:
    The real estate card (priced at “one point eight” million) serves as a catalyst for confrontation and fantasy (pages 246–247). It physically represents intrusion (the photographer’s voyeurism) and becomes a prop for Harris’s role-play. The image of the narrator—captured without her knowledge—mirrors her vulnerability in the marriage. Later, Harris’s fixation on the photo (“Is that you?”) and his subsequent voyeuristic reenactment (“took out his phone and showed me the pictures”) suggest how their relationship is mediated through external gazes and performances rather than authentic connection.

    4. How does the chapter explore themes of performance and identity? Provide textual evidence.

    Answer:
    Performance permeates the chapter: Brian’s FBI uniform (worn despite quitting), Harris’s unconvincing role-play (“didn’t do a whole lot to get into character”), and the narrator’s forced enactment of a “good-time girl” (pages 247–248). The narrator’s internal monologue—”how could I think with him right there?“—reveals her dissociation, as she struggles to merge her fantasy self with reality. Even Harris’s terse dialogue (“Just wear something else”) feels scripted. These performances highlight characters hiding behind roles to avoid confronting truths (e.g., Brian’s illness, marital dissatisfaction).

    5. Evaluate the narrator’s emotional response to Harris’s behavior in the final scene. What does it suggest about her agency?

    Answer:
    The narrator’s conflicted reactions—arousal (“stupidly wet”) mixed with detachment (“tentatively ran my hands”)—show her compromised agency (page 248). She submits to Harris’s script (“Fuck me. Please…”) but notes the “acrid scent” of reality, suggesting dissonance. Her earlier defiance (“if this was a test then I would stand there for the rest of my life”) collapses into performative compliance, revealing how her autonomy is eroded by her desire for connection. The scene’s unresolved tension (“Everything was build[ing]”) mirrors her trapped state, neither fully empowered nor passive.

    Note