The film’s Greek title is a pun; a word meaning “relocation”, “transfer” and also “metaphor”.
The film develops along three principal lines.
1. The lengthy preparation and ensuing relocation of Greece’s National Library from the old, run-down neoclassical building in downtown Athens into a state-of-the-art complex, designed by Renzo Piano and financed by the Stavros Niarchos Foundation, a most prominent organization in Greece.
2. A chronicle of the tense sociopolitical circumstances as reflected upon the events in the heart of Athens, around the Library. Scenes of poverty, protest and street fighting prevail, as the transfer takes place while the country experiences a rough period of depression and the massive surge of refugees. However, within the facilities of the Cultural Center, where the new building is situated, one comes across a completely different reality; tranquility and a sense of security, carefree children playing around, artistic events and music festivals.
3. The History of the National Library, which originated in 1829, well in advance of the recognition of Greek independence from Turkey, and which is closely linked with the city itself and the trials and tribulations it has gone through.
The film employs an approach of systematic, unmediated observation and recording throughout a four-year period, for themes 1 and 2, while the historic aspect is tackled through the use of archival material (both film and photographic) .
There are no staged scenes or interviews since the intent was to achieve the greatest degree of authenticity both in the workings of the National Library and in the city life.
Through this kind of direct recording, emerges the whole universe of the Library, from the Board of Trustees down to the last auxiliary worker. The Library serves as a microcosm that is a close representation of the reality in modern Greece since its Independence; dirty and decadent, cumbersome and plagued by bureaucracy, but with hidden priceless intellectual gems in its otherwise poor and ravaged collections. All that is housed in a magnificent neoclassical building, a direct reference to Ancient Greece and the Democracy of Pericles.
Nonetheless, right outside, on the streets, modern Greece is caught in a state of utter confusion following the sudden bankruptcy, the resulting social crisis and the uncontrollable flow of refugees.
Invoking a glorious past can oftentimes become a curse for a country that tries to discover its identity through the fallacy of being the heir apparent of Plato, Aristotle and Alexander the Great.
Yet, at the same time, Athens is lively and bustling. Despite its obvious extended wounds, there is beauty within the ugliness and while the rest of Europe raises walls, this city generously welcomes large numbers of refugees and turns its gaze upon the future; even with blurred vision.
The very existence of the National Library is inextricably dependent on to the essence of Democracy. Speaking in the voice of an almost two-century-old woman, the National Library sounds at times like a young girl and then again as an elderly lady.
There are moments when she exhibits the wisdom of advanced age and others when she is passionate, protesting, worried, sad, angry, angry, joyful, anticipating.
The film’s components are brought together by a female narrator who identifies herself from the very beginning as the National Library.
The choice of a personal commentary serves as a counterbalance to the matter of fact filming of the relocation process (ridden by adversity and of uncertain outcome), of the social framework of the time and of the introduction of the historical aspect through the use of archival material.
In the voice of an almost two-century-old woman, the National Library sounds at times like a young girl and then again as an elderly lady.
There are moments when she exhibits the wisdom of advanced age and others when she is passionate, protesting, worried, sad, angry, angry, joyful, anticipating.
The National Library could be Athens itself, Greece or each one of us. Near the end of the film, when the transfer is almost completed, the narrator- Library poses a few questions.
In other libraries (national, metropolitan, etc) in New York Paris or Berlin, we can readily recognize a scholarly institution that has secured, pretty early on, its place and its role so that it serves as a customary destination not just for researchers, but for the majority of the population regardless of age, race or creed.
On the other hand, the National Library of Greece is an impoverished, thief ravaged cultural foundation, ignored by both the state (which according to the constitution is responsible for it) and by the public that never thought of it as their own.
For about two hundred years the Library has been trying to get on its feet, to gain momentum, amid bigotry, fanaticism, poverty and the fixation of hereditary excellence, of being the greatest among the peoples worldwide, as many Greeks still sustain. Its collections, as pointed out by the head of the Board himself, late in the film, are terribly restricted.
However, this Library could have been exceptional, not for the collections it currently holds, of course, but mainly for the treasures that could have been accumulated or for everything it could signify...
Until that time comes, if ever, the Library awaits.
The film makes an attempt to put together a large mosaic of stories and emotions, through short scenes and narratives, thus unifying time and space aiming to create a collective existential and psychological profile of a country and a people, through its National Library.
A transfer that, throughout the film, only a few seem to believe will begin and when it does begin in an environment of faction, poverty, and extremity, it is met with public indifference. It might be a transfer that signifies a lot more than than a simple technical process of book relocation.
