**2. Masculine Negotiations**

Knut Hamsun's *Hunger* is generally recognised as the first modernist novel in Norway. In my perspective, it is a text that foregrounds the performativity of a male body and its negotiations with masculine conventions, economic resources and femininity. Hamsun stages a character who experiences an extreme situation of loss, and he constructs a psychological case largely with bodily signs and interior monologue. An important part of this aesthetics, where the point of view is that of the first-person narrator, is the way he interprets the city and its inhabitants by means of physical perceptions, which are governed by his existential state of being hungry. The main character's senses, thoughts and interaction with the surroundings are basically guided by the hungry body, and as a reflection, the outer world leaves its prints on him. The novel's physiological frame is emphasised by the phrase that introduces "Kristiania, that strange city which no one leaves before it has set its marks upon him ... " (3) [Kristiania, denne forunderlige By, som ingen forlader før han har faaet Mærker af

<sup>4</sup> Selboe's study includes texts by Camilla Collett, Sigrid Undset, Cora Sandel, Jean Rhys, Djuna Barnes, and Virginia Woolf.

<sup>5</sup> *Figurative Space* (Rees 2010, p. 89).

den ... (1)], as well as the final description of the man as being "wet with fever and fatigue" (p. 217) ["vaad af Feber og Mathed" (p. 333)].<sup>6</sup>

A central motif in the novel, which does not have much of a plot, is an encounter with a woman he names Ylajali. Their first meeting takes place when he approaches two women at Palace Hill and describes one of them with words that reveal an erotic tension that increases the I's nervousness and alienation:

"As I walked by, I brushed the sleeve of one of them; I looked up—she had a full, somewhat pale face. Suddenly she blushes and becomes wonderfully beautiful, I don't know why, maybe from a word she'd heard spoken by a passer-by, maybe only because of some silent thought of her own. Or could it be because I had touched her arm? Her high bosom heaves visibly several times, and she presses her hand firmly around the handle of her parasol. What was the matter with her?" (p. 12)

[Idet jeg passered dem, strejfed jeg den enes Ærme, jeg saa op, hun havde et fyldigt, lidt blegt Ansigt. Med ét blusser hun og blir forunderlig skøn, jeg ved ikke hvorfor, maaske af et Ord, hun hører af en forbigaaende, maaske blot af en stille Tanke hos hende selv. Eller skulde det være fordi jeg berørte hendes Arm? Det høje Bryst bølger heftigt nogle Gange, og hun klemmer Haanden haardt om Parasolskaftet. Hvad gik der af hende? (pp. 15–16)]

The woman is represented through selected body parts, which underscores how the man sees her. The "full" face is, in the context of hunger, a sign of wealth and sufficient nourishment, and paleness is, in the 19th century, a colour of fashion. Her "high bosom" and the word "blushes" more than sugges<sup>t</sup> erotic longing and willingness. In addition, her hand, that presses "firmly around the handle of her parasol", is a detail that, in this context, has sexual connotations. The passage discloses a connection between the way he looks at her and the interpretations he plays with, namely that he is the one who makes the lady vibrate. But to the reader, it is his own desire that is exposed in this way.

However, the encounter takes a surprising turn: "I'm seized by a strange desire to frighten this lady, to follow her and hurt her in some way. I overtake once more and walk past her, then abruptly turn around and meet her face to face to observe her" (pp. 12–13) [ ... jeg føler mig greben af en sælsom Lyst til at gøre denne Dame bange, følge efter hende og fortrædige hende paa en eller anden Maade (p. 16)]. He tells the lady several times that she has lost her book, although she does not have one, and annoys her by coughing and making the "stupidest faces" (p. 13) [dummeste Grimaser (p. 16)] behind her back. He loses control of himself and cannot identify with the one who behaves like this. Since the point of view is that of the male character, he has no access to the lady's mind, and instead interprets her thoughts based on bodily signs, primarily her eyes. In them, he reads confusion, fear, curiousness, but also an erotic interest, and he shadows the two women until they arrive at their home at St. Olav's Place. She watches him through the window, and leaving the scene, he continually senses her pursuing eyes in his neck, and a cold shiver runs down his back.

The sexual motif in *Hunger* is characterised by the same humiliating deficiency as everything else in the man's life, and like the lack of food and money, the lack of sex is exposed in ironic and partly grotesque situations. The erotic scenes in the novel serve throughout as a reminder of his exclusion from this part of life also, and at the same time, they underscore the novel's bodily aesthetics. He may take part in sexual activities but is also regularly an outsider where he compulsorily obtains a voyeuristic position. The picture of gender relations and sexual forms that is drawn in the novel shows a world that has very little to do with official bourgeois practices. Familial frames around sexuality are abandoned, and instead, sexual life unfolds outside of the homes or as a grotesque inversion of conventional notions.

<sup>6</sup> I quote from Knut Hamsun: *Hunger* (Hamsun 2016), and its first edition, *Sult* (Hamsun 1890).

The reader gets access to some of the I-person's erotic fantasies, which seem to be shaped by romantic idealisations of women. The contrast to his real experiences is stark and points to the ironic pattern into which even the sexual motif is inscribed. His first fantasy of a woman occurs in the conversation with an old, blind man. It presents itself as an invented story, but the woman is called Ylajali and is the daughter of a man called Happolati, who lives at 2 St. Olav's Place. Happolati is a cabinet minister in Persia and his daughter a fairy princess who lies on a bed of yellow roses and owns three hundred women slaves. Very conscious of his own invention of "desperate lies" (p. 26) [desperate Løgne (p. 37)], the I-person describes the woman like this: "Eyes like raw silk, arms of amber! A single glance from her was as seductive as a kiss, and when she called me, her voice went straight to my heart, like a jet of wine" (pp. 26–27) [Øjne som Raasilke, Arme af Rav! Bare et enkelt Blik af hende var forførende som et Kys, og naar hun kaldte paa mig, jog hendes Stemme mig som en Straale af Vin lige ind i min Sjæls Fosfor (p. 38)]. The contrast between this ideal of a woman and an ordinary version of the second sex is articulated as a critique of the old man's reluctance to let himself be persuaded by the story. However at the same time, it is obvious that the I-person himself does not believe in his own account.

The real Ylajali does in fact come to him, and the pattern is repeated. Three evenings he has observed her outside the gate of his lodgings, and even though she is very well veiled, her attributes disclose her identity. She is wearing black, has a veil over her face and bosom and has a parasol with an ebony ring on the handle. His reaction is tense and typically depicted as a physical response: "My nervous brain shot out its feelers" (p. 113) [Min nervøse Hjærne skød Følehorn ud (p. 167)]. When he does not dare to approach her or offer to accompany her back home, it is because he intuitively thinks something will be required, a glass of wine or a ride. In addition, he is hungry, and although he had food just one day ago, he is not as capable of being hungry as before. The woman's expectations, in other words, force him to direct the claims of desire as well into an economic structure. When he uses the lack of money and his hunger as an excuse to keep the woman at a distance, it may seem as if there are other, less explicit, motifs behind his hesitancy. Hence, his sexuality is intimately tied to economy and power, but the relation is complex and far from transparent.

This point is further developed when the I-person, after an unsuccessful excursion around the city to find food and money, ends up at Karl Johan Street around eleven pm and encounters the sex market in full bloom: "Rustling skirts, a few bursts of sensual laughter, heaving breasts, excited, panting breaths; far down, by the Grand Hotel, a voice calling, 'Emma!'. The entire street was a swamp, with hot vapours rising from it" (p. 115) [Raslende Pigeskørter, en og anden kort, sandselig Latter, bølgende Bryster, heftige, pæsende Aandedrag; langt nede ved Grand en Stemme, som raaber: 'Emma!' Hele Gaden var en Sump, hvorfra hede Dunster steg op (p. 171)]. This impressionistic description of the sex industry is inscribed with feminine and animal characteristics, but our man does not have the means to participate:

"I instinctively search my pockets for two kroner. The passion quivering in every movement of the passers-by, the dim light of the street lamps, the tranquil, pregnan<sup>t</sup> night—it was all beginning to affect me: this air filled with whispers, embraces, trembling confessions, half-spoken words, little squeals. Some cats are making love amid loud shrieks in Blomquist's entranceway. And I didn't have two kroner. It was a torment, a misery like no other, to be so impoverished. What humiliation, what disgrace!" (p. 115).

[Jeg forfarer uvilkaarlig mine Lommer efter to Kroner. Den Lidenskab, der dirrer i hver af de Forbigaaendes Bevægelser, selve Gaslygternes dunkle Lys, den stille, svangre Nat, altsammen har begyndt at angribe mig, denne Luft, der er fyldt af Hvisken, Omfavnelser, skælvende Tilstaaelser, halvt udtalte Ord, smaa Hvin; endel Katte elsker med høje Skrig inde i Blomqvists Port. Og jeg havde ikke to Kroner. Det var en Jammer, en Elendighed uden Lige at være saa udarmet! Hvilken Ydmygelse, hvilken Vanære! (p. 171).]

He is denied the pleasure because he is poor and cannot compete with the bankers and grocers, onto whom he instead pours out his contempt. Arrogance replaces negotiations, and this attitude also influences the conversation with one of the women who catches his attention with her gaze. The conversation with her discloses the ambiguous attitude of both towards the game in which they are taking part, and whose rules they both quickly break. He plays the patron, aware of the fact that he does not have a dime to invest in the service offered but is taken by surprise when she wants to come with him for free. Humiliated by this generous proposal from a poor hooker, he says no thanks. While he has earlier regretted his lack of money to buy a sexual service, he now finds an excuse to escape. While he earlier let himself be overwhelmed by the passions of the erotic scene on the city street, his desires have now disappeared. To rescue himself from this embarrassing situation with a small amount of honour, he presents himself as a clergyman and recommends that the girl walk away and sin no more. We are here witnessing a play in three acts in which our hero approaches the sex market firstly as a customer, but with a clear conscience of not being serious because of his lack of money, secondly as fatherly caretaker for the poor girl who must sell her body to anyone, and thirdly as a Christian pastor with moralising accusations against a sinner in the flesh.

In all the roles, he plays with existing conventions but does not fit into any of them. He is an outsider in relation to existing role models in the culture and is instead ready to exploit them to his own favour and satisfaction. Moreover, these roles are infected by money and the power of market mechanisms. The law of the market decides who has and who does not have the necessary resources to be active agents, and on these terms, Hamsun's man is unable to compete. As soon as this law is redefined and other criteria rule, he can play the game, but is then suddenly uninterested in the whole business. Both Ylajali and the unknown young prostitute seem to appreciate qualities in the I-person other than his economy and status, but it is exactly this material aspect that he himself foregrounds in his relationship with them. It can, in other words, be tempting to interpret the I-person's relations to women and sex psychologically, as fear, reluctance, impotence, etc., but his own understanding emphasises that his problems are due to the lack of material resources.

The next day he observes the black veiled lady again by the gas lamp outside his gate, and this time he initiates a conversation, probably more self-confident because he has some money in his pocket. She agrees to letting him bring her home, and during this walk, occupies his senses in a way that hardly describes her but instead the qualities that stimulate his desire:

"We started off; she walked on my right-hand side. A peculiar, lovely feeling took hold on me. The consciousness of being in the presence of a young girl. I didn't take my eyes off her through our walk. The perfume in her hair, the warmth radiating from her body, this fragrance of woman that surrounded her, that sweet breath every time she turned her face towards me—all this streamed in upon me, penetrating irresistibly all my senses. I could just barely make out a full, somewhat pale face behind her veil and a high bosom that strained against her coat. The thought of all this hidden loveliness, whose presence I sensed under her coat and behind her veil, was bewildering to me and made me idiotically happy without any sensible reason. I couldn't hold back any longer and touched her with my hand, fingering her shoulder and smiling daftly. I could hear my heart pounding" (p. 128).

[Vi satte os i Bevægelse; hun gik paa min højre Side. En ejendommelig, skøn Følelse greb mig, Bevidstheden om at være i en ung Piges Nærhed. Jeg gik og saa paa hende hele Vejen. Parfumen i hendes Haar, Varmen, der stod ud fra hendes Legeme, denne Duft af Kvinde, der fulgte hende, det søde Aandedrag hver Gang, hun vendte Ansigtet mod mig,—altsammen strømmed ind paa mig, trængte mig uregerligt ind i alle mine Sandser. Jeg kunde saavidt skimte et fyldigt, lidt blegt Ansigt bag Sløret og et højt Bryst, der strutted ud mod Kaaben. Tanken paa al denne skjulte Herlighed, som jeg aned var tilstede indenfor Kaaben og Sløret, forvirred mig, gjorde mig idiotisk lykkelig, uden nogen rimelig Grund; jeg holdt det ikke længer ud, jeg berørte hende med min Haand, fingred ved hendes Skulder og smilte fjollet. Jeg hørte mit Hjærte slaa (pp. 192–93).]

The erotic tension between Ylajali and the I-person started with a dynamic of gazes in their first encounter and continues here with a conversation that typically reveals him as unpredictable and emotionally unbalanced. However, it is also more successful since the meeting ends with a kiss. In this scene, the mechanisms of power are intimately tied to the choreography of undressing that often dramatises an erotic game. She is wearing a black veil that covers her face and bosom, while he is eager to discover what it hides. He asks her twice to take it off, while she uses it as a means of negotiation, firstly to tickle his senses, and secondly to accept his plea:

"Suddenly she made a resolute movement and pulled her veil up over her forehead. We stood looking at each other for a second. 'Ylajali!' I said. She rose on her toes, flung her arms around my neck and kissed me right on the lips. I could feel her bosom heaving, hear her rapid breath" (p. 135).

[Pludselig gjorde hun en resolut Bevægelse og trak Sløret op i Panden; vi stod og saa paa hinanden et Sekund. Ylajali! sagde jeg. Hun hæved sig op, slog Armene om min Hals og kyssed mig midt paa Munden. En eneste Gang, hurtigt, forvirrende hurtigt, midt paa Munden. Jeg følte, hvor hendes Bryst bølged, hun pusted voldsomt (pp. 202–3)].

The gaze, the voice and the bodily touch represent in condensed form the stepwise scenography of perception that characterises their relationship.

At the same time as the contest of Ylajali's body goes on and is played out as a fight about the veil, the I-person's body appears—in an interesting inversion of the conventional gender roles in this ritual—as increasingly naked. Instead of the female striptease dancer who throws away her clothes one by one, the male character's sparse and untidy wardrobe is disclosed. It starts, not very "dangerously", with his observation of a passing man who carries a pair of shoes under his arm, as if he wants to spare them from being worn out. Then Ylajali asks him if he is cold without an overcoat, to which he answers "No, not at all" (p. 130) ["aldeles ikke" (p. 195)], since a confirmation would reveal his sorry condition. His shabby clothing signifies his economic situation, which is intricately embedded in a complex relation to the erotic negotiations that go on between the two. In his thoughts, the bad wear causes trouble in his relationship with the woman, and he seemingly does not understand why she wants to have anything to do with him at all. This theory of his explains why he offends her again, as if he will push her away: "You shouldn't really be walking here with me, miss; I compromise you in the eyes of everybody by my clothes alone" (p. 132) ['De burde i Grunden ikke gaa sammen med mig, Frøken; jeg prostituerer Dem midt for alle Folks Øjne bare ved min Dragt' (p. 197)]. Again, according to the reversed gender conventions, she shakes the humiliation away and sticks with the man.

In this scene with Ylajali, the erotic issue is complicated by the I-person's tendency to ascribe grea<sup>t</sup> significative dominance to clothing, both in his thoughts and in his conversation with her. The clothes obviously signify his economic shortage, but they also belong to the cultural context that attributes certain values of appearance in the interaction between the genders. Hat, overcoat and waistcoat are clothes without which the man clearly feels naked, and the lack of these items makes him subordinate and weak in his own eyes. His irrational and offensive statements are connected to this gender norm in the text, and when the rendezvous all in all turns out rather successful, it is due to her. She, on her part, lets herself be represented by a veil that she uses as an entrance to the body that he desires and to which she regulates access.

The epiphany of the erotic storyline is the scene where he is invited into Ylajali's apartment and sexual pleasure is within reach. In this case also, body and clothing mark the profound asymmetry between them and underscore the male's weakened masculinity in the erotic game: "Oh, that wretched suit I was wearing!" (p. 158) ['Aa, det elendige Antræk, jeg havde paa!' (p. 241)]. His desire is expressed in bodily reactions: "I sat looking at her with rapt attention. My heart was thumping, the blood coursing warmly through my veins" (p. 160) [Jeg sad fortabt og saa paa hende. Mit Hjærte slog højt, Blodet spændte mig varmt gennem Aarene (pp. 243–44)]. With a sore foot, however, he is physically handicapped and unable to play the cat-and-mouse game around the table to which she

invites him. His attitude is deeply ambivalent the whole time and is expressed in a recurrent double communication. He has shaved his beard but is stumbling in his chase after her; he manoeuvres her down on the sofa and gets to see her breast but has a lot of loose hair on his shoulders. He confesses his emotions and verbalises his desire but also tells her about his poverty and his humiliations. The scene closes with her embracing him and offering a love that he is unable to receive. "She offered me her mouth but I couldn't believe her, it was bound to be a sacrifice on her part, a means of getting it over with" (p. 170). [Hun rakte sin Mund frem; jeg kunde ikke tro hende, det var ganske bestemt et Offer, hun bragte, et Middel til at faa en Ende paa det (p. 261)]. He rushes to the door and walks out backwards—a final sign of his ambivalence, disgrace and fiasco as a seducer.

As a grotesque replica of this unsuccessful event, the man is invited by his landlord in Vaterland to witness an act of intercourse between the landlady and a sailor.<sup>7</sup> While the two men are peeping through the hole, the husband is almost entirely occupied with the old man on the couch beside, who is involuntarily forced to observe the sexual act: "'Just look!' he said, laughing with quiet, excited laughter. 'Take a peep! Hee-hee! There they lie. Look at the old man! Can you see the old man?'" (p. 202) ['Se her!' sagde han og lo med en stille, hidsig Latter. 'Kig ind! Hi-hi! Der ligger de! Se paa Gammeln! Kan De se Gammeln?' (p. 308)]. He repeats his utterance after the I-person has peeped through the hole: "'Did you see the old man?' he whispered. 'Oh Lord, did you see the old man?'" (p. 202) ['Saa De Gammeln?' hvisked han. 'Aa, Gud, saa De Gammeln?' (p. 309)]. With this explicit reference to the lame old man's voyeuristic position, the two of them, the I-person and the old man, reflect each other. Earlier, the old man's situation has been like the I-person's since they have both been bullied by family members. The children, two girls, have been jumping up and down on the old man's body, sticking straws into his ears and stabbing at his eyes and nostrils without him being able to defend himself, except to spit on them.

This scene reflects the I-person's total humiliation as a sexually active man.<sup>8</sup> He has been thrown out of his bed and his room, while the sailor has moved in, and is left with an outsider position. This status is prefigured in the scene in Ylajali's home, as well as in a situation on the street where he sees her for the last time. Here, she is synecdochically named a "red dress" (p. 189) [en rød Kjole (pp. 288–89)] and even a "blood-red dress" (p. 191) [en blodrød Kjole (p. 291)] several times and is accompanied by the "Duke" ['Hertugen' (p. 290)]. Our man's response to this defeat is expressed as selective perceptions and judgements of the quality of this colour, and the fate of being knocked out by this other man turns into a verdict of Ylajali's appearance: "I no longer cared for her, not at all; she wasn't the least attractive any more, she had lost her good looks—bloody hell, how she had faded!" (p. 191) [Jeg brød mig ikke længer om hende, aldeles ikke; hun var ikke det allerringeste vakker mer, hun havde tabt sig, fy Fan, hvor hun var falmet! (p. 291)]. In contrast to Ylajali's red, the landlady's body is white, "her legs gleamed white against the dark quilt" (p. 202) [hendes Ben skinned hvide mod den mørke Dyne (pp. 308–9)]. With the added description that she also always appears as pregnant, it is clear that the women in these scenes, where the I-person's sexuality is a theme, are represented as one body part, one attire or one colour. This synecdochic rhetoric can be read as a sign of the I-person's own exalted condition and is an expressionist way of writing that condenses the power of emotion in one single sign.

The connection between sexuality and money in the novel is underscored to the bitter end and it transmits the gender relations from the sphere of intimacy on to the market. When the I-person receives ten crowns from an unknown donor, he throws the crumpled note in the face of his landlady.

<sup>7</sup> This scene has been left out in George Egerton's translation, which is accessible online on Project Gutenberg (released 2005).

<sup>8</sup> In Per Stounbjerg's reading, this scene shows how female sexuality works as a symbol of the border-transgressing modernity: "The scene is presented for the male gaze, and it is written and staged from a male's perspective, Hamsun's. The female culture is a product of the male gaze. If we look behind the key hole, behind the city's shiny façade, the terrible appears" [Scenen præsenteres for mænds blikke, og den er skrevet, iscenesat ud fra en mands optic, Hamsuns. Den kvindagtige kultur er produkt af et mandligt blik. Kigger man ind gennem nøglehullet, ind bag byens skinnende facade, begynder det skrækkelige] ((Stounbjerg [1985] 1990) "Modernitetens køn", p. 84, my translation).

However, when he realises that it comes from Ylajali, he grows "[s]ick with pain and shame" (p. 208) [syg af Smærte og Skam (p. 318)]. Instead of digging her into the mud, as he earlier wished to do, he now wishes that he himself would sink: "I was sinking, sinking everywhere I turned, sinking to my knees, to my middle, going down in infamy never to come up again, never!" (p. 208) [ ... jeg sank, sank paa alle Kanter, hvor jeg vendte mig hen, sank tilknæs, sank til livs, dukket mig under i Vanære og kom aldrig op igen, aldrig! (p. 318)]. The erotic pleasure and humiliation are fundamentally tied up with economy, and success or fiasco on the sex market is consequently related to material resources. Our male character does not miss access to women and sex. On the contrary, the portrayed women, both the prostitute and Ylajali, are astonishingly willing despite his continuous performance as a shameful, poor, and unsympathetic person.
