Ylajali
Ylajali is a young woman living with her deaf mother at St. Olav's Place in Christiania, who becomes the central figure of the narrator's romantic and erotic fantasies in Knut Hamsun's Hunger. She is first encountered by the narrator as a stranger on the street, and their subsequent meetings—charged with his poverty, hunger, and psychological instability—transform her into a symbol of both unattainable beauty and the possibility of human connection, while also exposing the depths of his social and moral degradation. Her name, which the narrator invents on the spot, has a "gliding, nervous sound" and is associated with a fairy-tale princess in a palace of amethyst and yellow roses, a vision that haunts his most desperate hours.
Identity and First Encounter
The narrator first sees Ylajali on a morning in autumn, when he accidentally brushes her arm while passing her and a companion on the street. She blushes, and her "high, full bosom heaves violently." Seized by a sudden, inexplicable impulse, the narrator begins to follow her, inventing the name "Ylajali" and repeatedly addressing her with the cryptic phrase, "You are losing your book, madam!" She is confused and frightened, but her companion dismisses him as drunk. The narrator observes that both women wear "a blue bird's wing in their hats" and a "plaid silk ribbon round their necks," and he concludes they are sisters. He follows them to No. 2 St. Olav's Place, where, after they enter, a window opens and Ylajali looks down at him. The narrator feels a "delicate shock through my senses" and interprets the movement of her shoulders as a nod. This initial encounter establishes her as an object of both fascination and torment, a figure who embodies the possibility of intimacy that his poverty and hunger make impossible.
The Fantasy of Ylajali
Ylajali becomes a recurring figure in the narrator's feverish hallucinations and fantasies. During a night spent sleeping on a bench by the harbor, he dreams of being carried by dark monsters to "Princess Ylajali's palace," where she sits on a "throne of yellow roses" in a "dazzling hall where all is amethyst." In this vision, she welcomes him as a knight, leads him through gardens of three hundred maidens and halls of emerald and ruby, and whispers, "Welcome, loved one! Kiss me ... more ... more...." This fantasy is a direct inversion of his real-life misery: in his dream, he is a celebrated hero, not a starving beggar. Later, in a cell at the guard-house, he raves about Ylajali, imagining her on a "swelling crimson silken divan" and calling out her name. These visions are not merely escapist; they are a symptom of his starvation-induced delirium, a desperate attempt by his mind to create beauty and meaning in the face of utter destitution. The name itself, "Ylajali," becomes a kind of talisman, a word he repeats to himself in moments of extreme distress.
The Second Encounter and the Evening at Her Apartment
Weeks later, the narrator notices a lady in black standing under a lamp-post opposite his door for several evenings. He eventually speaks to her, and she reveals that she lives at St. Olav's Place. When the narrator exclaims "Ylajali," she is startled but does not reject the name. She agrees to walk with him, and during their conversation, she lifts her veil and kisses him on the mouth. This kiss, swift and bewildering, is the most direct physical contact they share. They arrange to meet again on Tuesday evening. When he arrives, she invites him up to her apartment. There, she is playful and flirtatious, teasing him about his earlier behavior and his shabby appearance. She admits she is poor herself. The narrator, desperate to be worthy of her, confesses his theft of five shillings. This confession horrifies her; she calls him insane and becomes frightened. The evening ends in confusion and pain: the narrator, hurt by her fear, delivers a long, rambling speech about his suffering, and she, in a gesture that feels like a sacrifice, offers him her arms and says, "I am fond of you, in spite of all." He leaves abruptly, feeling that he has tormented her.
The Final Encounter and the Half-Sovereign
Some time later, the narrator sees Ylajali walking on Carl Johann Street with a man he recognizes as "The Duke." He feels a surge of jealousy and contempt, telling himself he no longer cares for her. Shortly after, a commissionaire delivers an envelope containing half-a-sovereign, which the narrator immediately understands came from Ylajali. He is sick with shame, realizing that he has "only aroused her compassion, and coaxed an alms from her." In a fit of rage and pride, he crumples the coin and envelope and throws it in the face of his landlady, who has just evicted him. This act is his final, desperate attempt to assert his dignity, but it is also a rejection of the very help he most needs. Ylajali's gift, intended as an act of kindness, becomes the catalyst for his most self-destructive gesture. She remains, in the end, an unattainable figure, a symbol of the human connection that his poverty and psychological disintegration make impossible to sustain. Her final appearance is as a memory and a source of shame, a reminder of the chasm between his desire for love and his inability to receive it.
