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June 23, 2020
Anna Cox's Playlist for Her Novel "I Keep My Worries in My Teeth"
In the Book Notes series, authors create and discuss a music playlist that relates in some way to their recently published book.
Previous contributors include Jesmyn Ward, Lauren Groff, Bret Easton Ellis, Celeste Ng, T.C. Boyle, Dana Spiotta, Amy Bloom, Aimee Bender, Roxane Gay, and many others.
Anna Cox's novel I Keep My Worries in My Teeth is an auspicious debut as heartfelt as it is hilarious.
Publishers Weekly wrote of the book:
"Cox is a talented storyteller with a knack for mixing sublime prose with humor and violence, and her insights about love, family, and photography fill the narrative with bits of superb writing. Touching, clever, and hilarious, this is a notable debut."
In her own words, here is Anna Cox's Book Notes music playlist for her debut novel I Keep My Worries in My Teeth:
I Keep My Worries in My Teeth is a story of three women—a widow who owns a fox-shaped photography store, the MouthFeel tester for the local pencil factory, and a teenage punk—who fight back after a shared tragedy kicks them in the teeth.
The novel is a griefedy—a certainly made-up and possibly lousy portmanteau of grief and comedy. Set in 1979, the book references bands like MC5, Nico, Iggy Pop, John Cage, Bee Gees and Foghat. I know. Foghat and Bee Gees are a whiplash-inducing addition to that list of a proto-punk and experimental bands, but they are vital to the story even though I’m still trying to suss out if they are the musical comedy or the musical grief.
Below are a sample of songs and scenes for Esther and Frankie.
Esther is the official MouthFeel Tester for the Juliet Pencils factory. When the factory explodes she’s left with no job and no way to occupy her anxious teeth, so she spends her days searching for biting substitutes.
After too much rum and too many gnawed wooden hangers, she wakes up on the floor of her closet, full of shame and cedar splinters. Like many women at low points in their lives she’s susceptible to television’s messaging and decides that maybe her life really would be better if she had a tidy home, so she ties a kerchief to her head, snaps on yellow rubber gloves and drags a bulging bag of half-chewed puzzle pieces, dog toys, wooden hangers, and toilet plungers down the stairs to her apartment’s trash room.
The term meet cute didn’t exist in the late 1970s, but there is no better descriptor for a scene in which Esther watches toilet plungers flame and Brad, the cutest guy in the building, walks into the incinerator room carrying a pizza box and wearing a tight Foghat t-shirt.
"Slow Ride," Foghat
I wanted a song that was popular at the time but also something that wasn’t complicated, something that a daft guy like Brad would listen to as he cruised around in his Monte Carlo. Just a dumb song for douche guy.
Turns out, I’m the douche. That dumb song has become my mantra during the Coronavirus pandemic. On solo walks and in toilet paper panics, Slow Ride reminds me how to keep my shit together: slow ride, take it easy.
Esther and Brad have a date!
It’s been a long time since Esther had a date, so she decides to landscape her lady-bits.
It doesn’t go well. She has a Nair mishap of epic proportions when what was intended as a delicate pruning ends up as total deforestation. Esther refers to her shockingly bare downtown as Telly Salavas.
"Oh, What a Night For Love," Telly Savalas
Telly Savalas played the bald star of the popular detective show, Kojak. As much as I waned to to choose the Kojak theme song (like many 1970s TV theme songs, it is amazing!) I picked this because, like Esther, the rendering of the song is simultaneously earnest and absurd.
Relationships that spark in the shame-glow of smouldering plungers don’t last. On their first and only date, Esther and Brad end up a bar where Brad’s friend plays in a Foghat cover band. I imagined the cover band might put an Ohio spin on Slow Ride.
"Snow Drive," Derwood Bowen
Just because I invented Brad doesn’t mean I have to like him. This song is either terrible or amazing but either way I can’t stop listening to it. Apparently, I’m more Brad than I want to admit.
Frankie is a teenage punk and her mother owns the pencil factory. Seriously injured in the factory explosion, Frankie spends most of the novel recuperating in the hospital. She’s frustrated that the adults around her think that just because she can’t talk means she also can't hear. She wonders if she’ll ever see her boyfriend again or if she’ll die a virgin with a gaping neck wound. To pass the time, she counts ceiling tiles and watches as the helium balloons that fill her room, slowly deflate.
"I’m Bored," Iggy Pop
This song perfectly characterizes Frankie, a joyous rebellion against the dumb norms of adult life mixed with catchy beat. There’s something about the way Iggy Pop says, I’m bored that is total encouragement— find your own way, even if means dragging an IV pole behind you.
Frankie met her boyfriend, Noah, when she joined the all boy Patriot Adventures troop. Noah’s taste in music is terrible, but Frankie likes him anyhow. Frankie isn’t allowed visitors yet, so Noah sends a letter and includes his favorite band t-shirt. Frankie manages to get the t-shirt over the tangles of her IV tube and falls asleep hugging herself. Tonight, she loves the Bee Gees.
"Tragedy," Bee Gees
Honestly, this song needs no explanation. If the late 1970s synthesizers and Brothers Gibbs don’t make you smile or make you dance, there’s something wrong with you that not even Slow Ride can cure. If you listen in headphones, at the end of the song you'll notice the sounds of an explosion. Bonus!
After medical tests confirm that Frankie will never speak again, the hospital psychiatrist interviews her. She hands Frankie three cards: a smiley face, a frowny face, and a neutral face. The psychiatrist asks complicated questions and expects simple answers. Yet again, Frankie realizes the adult world is useless so she cleverly plays along giving the answers that will get her out of the hospital as quick as possible.
"New Values," Iggy Pop
I love the handclaps, especially because Frankie speaks in percussion. I just imagine Frankie flipping over those dumb smiley face cards as a substitute for flipping off the psychiatrist.
At the end of the book, a rally is held to announce that the factory will be rebuilt. Frankie and her mom give a speech (Frankie taps while her mom speaks). Frankie leaves early and meets Noah because they have plans to ride their bikes to the camera obscura. The entire town is at the rally, so the streets are empty and Frankie and Noah bike in the middle of the street, holding hands. The rally includes a ceremonial ground breaking which stirs ash from the fire. Frankie and Noah watch it accumulate in their hair and on their handlebars, like they are biking in a snow globe built for two.
"Camera Obscura," Nico
Sure, the song has camera obscura in the title but I picked it because the jangled, trippy percussion reminds me of things falling and swirling and generally being out of whack in the best way. I think most people know Nico from the song, "These Days." That’s a great song, but I think "Camera Obscura" is much weirder and more interesting because it refuses to sort itself into any kind of sense, you just have to be in the song and enjoy it without wanting any conclusion because it doesn’t offer any. Nothing makes linear sense and maybe—certainly—in love and tragedy, linearity is overrated. It’s the perfect reminder to stop worrying about the destinations, just bike in the middle of the road, let ash gather on your combat boots and go someplace with someone you like.
Anna Cox teaches photography at universities in Canada and the United States. This is her first novel.
