Quandary CityA Story by rabbitCaptolaus’s
skyline is considered impressive to the residents of the city, but to a
passersby or approaching traveler, it is suffocating and gaudy. Enormous
skyscrapers contest with the clouds, looming from the ground and piercing the
sky with glittering tips. There is nothing modest or humble about these
skyscrapers. Each one strives to be more magnificent than the last, in a vain
attempt to sculpt a sweeping visage of grandeur and majesty. With no smaller
buildings to put the skyscrapers in perspective, however, the resulting effect
is overwhelming and difficult to comprehend. Visitors and passersby tend to
keep their gaze downcast when in the presence of these assailing buildings.
Whoever falls under their enormous shadow is immediately smothered by a sense
of crushing oppression. If, despite this uncomfortable preceding atmosphere, one
decides to enter the city anyway, it is quickly discovered that prolonged
exposure to these buildings results in a numbing of the mind. Eventually the
overpowering effect of the buildings diminishes. When approached individually,
their astounding enormity becomes bearable, and even pleasurable to view on
their own. Up close, each separate skyscraper possesses an inherently different
quality, often reflective of their builder’s unique characteristics. One
popular tower is constructed solely of black steel, designed in fastidious
fashion to simulate a spider web. The delicate obsidian strands appear woven
together in a way that exudes a feigned delicateness, as though if a single
strong gust of wind pushed through that area of town, the entire building would
be brushed away. In the center of town resides a building that is
essentially an enormous upside-down pyramid. The main bulk spreads up into the
sky, resting on a miniscule point that perches upon the ground. Its sides are
sheathed in mirrors, producing a peculiar effect: It makes the onlooker appear
infinitesimally tiny. As though the shear enormity of the building weren’t
enough, this added effect gives the viewer an impression of helpless
inferiority, and because of this, is rarely viewed for long. Plainly named ‘The
Bennett Pyramid’, after the physicist who designed it, it was once the most
spectacular of the skyscrapers, though this is always subject to change. Other
buildings may have equally impossible designs. Often scientists will pour their
heart, soul, and life savings into such structures for the sake of the
recognition. The city’s unique patron system is what makes these
prodigious creations possible. Wealthy landowners and businessmen often sponsor
contests that challenge the citizen’s creativity. Typically the most inventive
and unique designs are chosen, and out of these blueprints a new skyscraper is
born. Sometimes, if a project is too big for the city to accommodate, old
buildings and outdated towers will be demolished to make way for the newest
pursuit. The winning designers are the city’s celebrities, though the fame is
fickle and often short-lived. Just as quickly as a design may be praised, an
even newer one could take only a day to outshine the glory of the former
winner. Old (and sometimes even newer) towers are constantly obliterated to make
way for the latest design, with the exception of a few buildings that are dire
to running the city. This constant shifting generates an infinite stream of
evolution. The city is chronically fluctuating, making way for the unique and
unparalleled. Although each monument is markedly different, a few
common aspects are prevalent. Most, if not all, of these structures are
disconcertingly colossal in their attempt to outshine the others. The result is
meant to inspire breathtaking awe, but more often than not it makes the viewer
uncomfortable. It is for this reason that Captolaus experiences few tourists.
The buildings, though meant to influence outside viewers, are primarily
canvassed by the citizens themselves, as well as the designers. Every single
skyscraper bears a plaque with the designer and sponsor’s names, the amount of
money it took to build, the year it was built, and the original blueprints.
Although each plaque is specific to the theme of the castle it adorns, the name
of both the sponsor and the designer are always enormous and impossible to
miss. The designer/sponsor system is like a game to Captolaus’s citizens. Being
rich is crucial, but being innovative is even more so. If you are not a citizen of Captolaus, leaving it is
somewhat of a relief. There is redeeming freedom in the act of extracting
yourself from the midst of those daunting towers. The citizens seem friendly
enough, but even their eyes act as mirrors, reflecting visitors in the slight
pinpoints of their pupils. Every new skyscraper is an attempt to outshine all
the rest, and in the end the only achieved effect is that of a hectic, crushing
destitution. © 2012 rabbitFeatured Review
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5 Reviews Added on August 15, 2012 Last Updated on August 15, 2012 Tags: science fiction, city, cityscape AuthorrabbitSan Marcos, TXAboutAn empathetic, self-pitying, generous, lazy, sensitive, indecisive, candid, capricious student who is always saying she's writing something when really she rarely is. I listen to a lot of music and st.. more..Writing
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