Santa Barbara by the book

BY CHERI RAE
A recent AP story detailed “destination bookstores” across the nation—those literary locations worthy of note for travelers and tourists. Included were such stalwarts as Powell’s in Portland, Tattered Cover in Denver and City Lights in San Francisco.
“A destination bookstore,” according to the article, “can make you feel like you’re part of the community.” Sadly missing from the account was The Earthling, that late, great, fiercely independent destination bookstore and Santa Barbara institution for nearly a quarter of a century.

To be sure, we are blessed in this community with a few remaining non-chain bookstores including Chaucer’s, The Book Den and even the remarkable Randall House Rare Books.
But none of them quite fit the criteria of a “destination bookstore” like The Earthling did.
It wasn’t the inventory or selection; it was the place that made it special—and not just for book-lovers or avid readers. Maybe it was the warmth of the inviting fireplace, the joy of Saturday morning storytime for kids, the intellectual challenge of meeting notable authors on book tours—the best-selling and the obscure.
Or maybe it was the opera nights, the window dedicated to nonprofits or Barnaby Conrad’s amazing, 3-D mural depicting literary giants that filled one wall. (Thankfully that mural is now preserved and protected in its new location in the library at Santa Barbara High where it will continue to inform and inspire young readers and writers well into the future.)
The Earthling’s history was not without some community controversy, dating back to the early 1980s, as detailed in the book, “Saving the Neighborhood: You Can Fight Developers and Win!” When the city’s redevelopment agency decided to exercise its urban renewal powers to demolish the property at Victoria and State where the bookstore was then located in order to build a Bullock’s department store the owners fought back. They got the measure on the ballot, and defeated the demolition, gaining 60 percent of the vote.
Eventually, this defeat focused the city’s redevelopment efforts on lower State, paving the way for the construction of Paseo Nuevo. The Earthling eventually outgrew the location it had fought so hard to keep, and moved to its final home at the corner of State and Anapamu — the former Woolworth’s space —where it flourished for several years. Then came the huge growth in super-sized chains with cut-rate book prices—and the virtual end of great independent booksellers across the country and right here in Santa Barbara.
Now the entire Bullock’s chain is gone, and The Earthling, too.
I never went back into that building when Copeland’s occupied the space. The Earthling had been a gathering place where I gained child-rearing advice, met colleagues, explored new ideas and generally felt right at home. When it closed, it felt personal; it was like the loss of a good and trusted friend or family member which I’ve mourned, but have never fully recovered.
For our city it was the end of an era—when our downtown lost its heart, if not its soul.
So it was with a bit of trepidation I finally re-entered that building, now the home of Old Navy, lured in by the sale prices of cheap tank-tops, jeans and sweaters. Where I once bought poetry and prose—and stood in line to meet legends like novelist Ray Bradbury, former basketball player and then-presidential candidate Bill Bradley, and New Age guru Marianne Williamson—I now waited to pay for a seven-dollar turtleneck. Made in Vietnam, of all places.
Every storefront along State Street has its story—most dating much farther back than the one detailed here. But as Santa Barbara continues to grow as a destination, it’s shrinking in its sense of unique community offerings, those touchstones that draw residents and visitors ever closer. The many retail vacancies downtown will be occupied someday, with prosperous chains that want a presence in America’s Riviera; they’re the only one that can afford the ever-increasing rents. But the spaces left in those places by those who came before may never be truly filled.
Cheri Rae’s column appears every Thrusday in the Daily Sound. Send your questions or comments via e-mail to cheri@santabarbarafree.com