The Possible City

An excerpt from Nathaniel Popkin's new book

by Nathaniel Popkin

Nathaniel Popkin is writer-in-residence at Philadelphia University. This is excerpted from his new book, The Possible City: Exercises in Dreaming Philadelphia, published by Camino Books in August 2008. Available at bookstores and caminobooks.com.

My earlier book, Song of the City, concludes with a short chapter, "Perchance to Dream," in which I invent an imaginary planning commission to dream of the possible city. What follows in this book is the culmination of several more years of exploring Philadelphia, talking with some of its most interesting and knowledgeable citizens, and reflecting on what this place is and might be. Many readers recognize that "The Possible City" is the title of a column I write on the Web site phillyskyline.com and, indeed, many of the ideas in this book are derived from those columns as well as guest editorial columns in City Paper and material prepared for and presented in other publications.

In Philadelphia, imagining a new city is a singular act of citizenship. When we look at Philadelphia, we see what might be. That tendency to see possibility around every corner comes in response to two sensations. The first is the recognition of what isn't. Here is the cold understanding of what, in comparison to other cities, Philadelphia lacks. The second is the awareness of what was. We're reminded of this ceaselessly, of the city's founding ideals, of its political, economic, and industrial prominence. In Philadelphia, William Penn sought a different kind of city, one guided by principles of tolerance and love. These are active principles in Philadelphia, and we turn to them especially in times of crisis. They help us see what might be.

We dream so intensely because a more satisfying city feels ever so tantalizingly close. We dream too because as hard and unforgiving as Philadelphia is, it also relents; any one of us it seems can mold it to the shape of our desires.

It's all there in the ruins we call the contemporary city.

But we well know that the act of dreaming isn't the act of building; nor, even under the best circumstances, do the vast majority of dreams come to reality. The present paradigm rewards the rich—so much so that on many streets a desperate fatalism seems to have descended; and like a low pressure system, it sits no matter the hopeful rhetoric otherwise. At times it feels intractable, engendering not only hopelessness but a defensive pride. In some neighborhoods that pride is wielded to assert control