Hi friends,
Next week, I revisit my Norwegian lessons—because I would like to begin exploring the literary heritage of Norway in its original language. To celebrate, I’m revisiting one of the most influential works of modern Norwegian literature: Knut Hamsun’s Hunger. Known in Norwegian as Sult (sometimes spelled “Zert” in older references), this short yet captivating novel has inspired authors such as Franz Kafka. Although Hamsun won the 1920 Nobel Prize in Literature for his later work Growth of the Soil, Hunger remains the novel for which he is most famous—and astonishingly, it was his very first.

A Young Starving Artist in Christiania

Set in late 19th-century Christiania (now Oslo), Hunger follows a nameless protagonist—a young, struggling writer—through bouts of literal and metaphorical starvation. Much like Dostoevsky’s Crime and Punishment, this story brims with paranoia, claustrophobia, and fleeting moments of near-psychosis. But where Dostoevsky’s novel delves deeply into guilt and moral reckoning, Hunger is far more rapid-fire in pacing. The narrator’s life unravels at a dizzying speed, making it a perfect candidate for anyone who needs something truly riveting to break out of a reading slump.

Four Translations into English

If you’re new to Hunger, you’ll find there are four main English translations. After some side-by-side comparisons—and even a peek at the Norwegian—I personally gravitate toward the Sverre Lyngstad translation for its immediacy and lack of “fluff.” The language feels both urgent and stark, reflecting the feverish mindset of the protagonist. Other translations are popular (and even available in audiobook form), so it may be worth sampling a few lines from each before deciding. Ultimately, the best translation is the one you’ll actually read.

The Revolutionary Writing Style

Published in 1890, Hunger is considered the first truly modern Norwegian novel. Hamsun’s emphasis on a continuous interior monologue—where the protagonist’s delirium, anxieties, and fleeting hopes stream out uninterrupted—was groundbreaking for its time. Today, we take “stream of consciousness” for granted in fiction, thanks to literary heavyweights like James Joyce and Marcel Proust who pushed it to new extremes. Yet Hamsun’s approach was wholly fresh to late 19th-century audiences, who were accustomed to more event-driven plots. Some early readers lamented that “nothing happens” in Hunger. Ironically, modern readers often find it thrilling because the protagonist’s internal chaos makes the novel feel so intense and fast-paced.

Different Forms of Hunger

Yes, the narrator is physically hungry—there are vivid, cringeworthy descriptions of his pangs, from gnawing on wood chips to biting his own finger. But as you read, notice how Hamsun portrays deeper hungers as well: an insatiable craving for creativity, recognition, love, and, in a sense, self-actualisation. Much like the proverb “Man shall not live by bread alone,” the protagonist survives as much on raw inspiration as on anything tangible. At times, this artistic idealism borders on self-destruction, leaving the narrator in a downward spiral of his own making. Is it pride? Mental illness? Devotion to art? That question lingers throughout.

Reading It Fast … or in 4 Parts

“Hunger” is divided into four roughly equal sections, each about 50 pages long. One strategy is to devote a single sitting to each section; that way, you remain immersed in the narrator’s feverish world, experiencing his obsessions and anxieties without interruption. Even if you spread it out over multiple days or weekends, try to maintain that unbroken sense of urgency—much like the protagonist, who rarely has the luxury of calm reflection. Readers often describe an almost manic energy when speeding through this book, which is precisely why it’s so good at snapping you out of a sluggish reading rut.

Confronting Cold, Poverty, and Pride

One of the novel’s most compelling aspects is the protagonist’s refusal to accept help. On the surface, it seems irrational. Why reject money when you’re famished? But this is where Hunger provokes us to ask: What makes someone “poor”? Is it simply the lack of resources, or is it the presence of certain mindsets—pride, idealism, stubbornness, or even mental instability? If you’re fortunate enough never to have gone truly hungry or lacked shelter, this book may uncomfortably push you to empathise with (and question) those who do. Hamsun’s depiction of the narrator’s downward spiral forces us to confront the raw fragility of human dignity.

The Starving Artist Archetype

Hamsun’s protagonist is the walking embodiment of the “starving artist.” Many creative people dream of living off their art, yet fear the consequences—financial insecurity, social isolation, even literal starvation. By dramatising the extreme outcome of such fears, Hunger can paradoxically be cathartic. The narrator’s stubborn refusal to compromise his writing may appear naive or reckless, yet it also stands as a testament to the intensity of artistic devotion.

Turning Maslow’s Hierarchy on Its Head

According to psychologist Abraham Maslow, one must first secure basic needs—food, shelter, physical safety—before turning to higher pursuits like art, self-expression, and esteem. Hunger challenges this notion. The protagonist sacrifices the lower rungs of Maslow’s hierarchy in favor of his writing, in effect flipping that pyramid. In doing so, Hamsun probes whether creativity can ever sustain us as surely as bread. The results, you’ll see, are alternately transcendent and tragic.

A Complementary Read: Kafka’s “A Hunger Artist”

If the themes of artistic obsession and literal starvation fascinate you, Franz Kafka’s short story “A Hunger Artist” makes an interesting companion piece. Kafka acknowledged Hamsun’s influence, and both works examine how far someone might go when art collides with bodily need (or bodily neglect). Although the writing styles differ, the thematic parallels are profound and can deepen your appreciation for the psychological terrain each author explores.

Final Thoughts and a Parting Quote

As you read, consider journaling about the question, “What makes someone poor?” It’s a deceptively simple inquiry that goes to the heart of Hunger. I’ll leave you with a line from Hamsun himself:

“Do not forget: Some give little, and it is much for them. Others give all, and it costs them no effort. Who then has given most?”

Reflect on that as you wander the chilly streets of Hamsun’s Christiania—vicariously or literally—and see how your understanding of hunger, humility, and human connection evolves.

Thanks for reading, happy exploring; and Merry Christmas.