Gr translation: crackling-tower

[Mike Jing]

V482.13-28   It was always easy for men to come and tell her who to be.
Other girls of her generation grew up asking, “Who am I?” For them it was a
question full of pain and struggle. For Gretel it was hardly even a
question. She had more identities than she knew what to do with. Some of
these Gretels have been only the sketchiest of surfaces—others are deeper.
Many have incredible gifts, antigravity, dreams of prophecy . . . comatic
images surround their faces, glowing in the air: the light itself is
actually crying tears, weeping in this stylized way, as she is borne along
through the mechanical cities, the meteorite walls draped in midair, every
hollow and socket empty as a bone, and the failing shadow that shines black
all around it . . . or is held in staring postures, long gowns, fringe and
alchemical symbol, veils flowing from leather skullcaps padded concentric
as a bike-racer’s helmet, with crackling-tower and obsidian helix, with
drive belts and rollers, with strange airship passages that thread
underneath arches, solemnly, past louvers and giant fins in the city mist.
. . .

What is "crackling-tower"?
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