Bart Wars

The absence of the beloved bookstore, which began as a small, radical, Venice-based cooperative in the ’70s before relocating in 1980 to its longtime home on the Third Street Promenade, will leave a sizable crater on the Westside. Last February, the store closed temporarily and went into storage as they searched for a new, less expensive space. Seven months ago, they reopened at 1450 Second St. — but it was too late. The long delay hit them hard. “It’s a shame it was necessary for them to close when it’s so necessary for them to continue,” says Paul Yamazaki of San Francisco’s City Lights Bookstore. “Midnight Special has been a vital and important institution and an example to all independent bookstores.” Owner Margie Ghiz reflected on the history of Midnight Special and the embattled nature of the independent bookstore.

L.A. WEEKLY: What played the largest role in the store closing — was it the politics, local or national, or the economics of the independent bookstore?

MARGIE GHIZ: The economics. If you are a big store or an outlet of a major chain, you can afford to keep losing money, at least for a while. An independent store can’t do that. Had we found a place before we closed [in 2003], we would have had a far better chance. Every minute of the delay hurt us. Thousands of dollars to a major chain is chump change. We’re both existing in the same economic climate, but what is life and death to us is nothing to them.

When and how did Midnight Special originate?

1970. The store grew right out of the civil rights movement and the anti–Vietnam War movement. When I took it over [in 1981], it was going out of business in Venice. I used to go there and volunteer. In 1985, we had an accountant who estimated that from the time it opened, there were 1.5 million unpaid hours in that bookstore. The bookstore never would have lived otherwise. In order for a “radical” bookstore to make it, you have to have a lot of trial and error. You’ve got to figure out how to get through to people.

For a long time, on the Promenade, you were as well-known for the dissenting displays you put into your windows as for the books readers took out of the store.

We did that on purpose. Whether you’re a reader, a writer, a teacher, whoever, today more than ever, everything’s a battle. Do not think it’s going to happen without you. There’s a book out there called Meena, about a young woman who was 20 years old in Afghanistan and she started to organize. She had to maneuver the Taliban. By the time she was 30, she was assassinated. Alice Walker wrote this wonderful thing about her legacy, and one message was always “Dare to be present in your own time.” I thought that was amazing.

What advice are you giving readers and other booksellers?

It’s important that the minds keep screaming and yelling and spreading ideas. That’s what matters. Even if people come in to the store and they don’t agree with you, they are part of a community, and are constantly challenging you. It keeps you relevant and alive. An independent bookstore is not a place, not a collection of books, it’s a relationship — with people who read, with the staff, and with all the authors who have read here. We’ve done between 25 and 30 events per month — we have for the last 10 years.

What shocked you the most about closing?

Why did I think we’d be immune to what is affecting everything else? There are kids that work in my store who have had their classes dropped because of cutbacks. There are teachers who used to shop here who have lost their jobs. There’s a government that, as far as I’m concerned, lies to us and kills behind those lies. I somehow thought I would always be here to scream about it.

—Anthony Miller

Batting practice: Former Dodgers’ 2004 stats vs. the current lineup (as of June 1).