[Thank you Milkweed Books for a gifted copy, out Nov 8 🤍]
Adam Wolfond’s THE WANTING WAY is the second book in Multiverse, a literary series written and curated by the neurodivergent, and I’ve been awaiting its arrival ever since reading the first (Hannah Emerson’s THE KISSING OF KISSING).
“I must follow the thread to the end I ask others to unravel with me,” Wolfond writes, and this is how we begin THE WANTING WAY, with an invitation: we are invited to experience language and body as he experiences it (with a rhythm “long and continuous…forging want of the howling wind”), to start in the middle or the end or to flip back and forth and back again, to taste words, to feel through the world, to unravel new poems from words tangled in a blue thread that weaves through the entire book.
Reading these poems, I feel inevitably drawn to Wolfond’s way of touching the world—the wanting way—through taps, tics, stims, sticks (and, here, touching is also a way of requesting how to be touched, it is asking us to ask for consent). Words are tactile; they slip and scatter fluid on the page and portray a body that it feels movement more intensely, that choreographs patterns and motions that neurotypical people often misunderstand. Wolfond is nonspeaking and autistic, and the speaking are, for once, silent as his words move through our brain. Here, his language moves at its own pace, not one set by others. Here, he moves in the way he wants to move or that his body asks to move (”I language the way I move”). Here, “the body is a wanting thing”: demanding, different, and human. It dances its own dance freely and asks us to say yes to it.