Theft
Theft in Knut Hamsun's Hunger is not a simple act of criminality but a complex moral and psychological event that marks the protagonist's deepest crisis of honor and self-worth. It functions as a recurring temptation, a concrete transgression, and a catalyst for shame, confession, and a desperate attempt at moral restitution, ultimately revealing the corrosive effects of extreme poverty on the narrator's conscience.
The Temptation and the First Fall
The narrator's struggle with theft begins as a temptation he resists. Early in his starvation, he considers pawning Hans Pauli's blanket, a borrowed item, for a shilling to buy food. He stops outside the pawnshop, shakes his head, and turns back, feeling "gladsome, ay, delighted" that he had conquered this strong temptation. The consciousness of remaining "pure and honourable" fills him with a sense of having principle and character. This initial victory, however, is fragile. The temptation recurs, and the narrator later admits to himself that he has struggled with "the meanest thoughts of making away with other men's blankets." The first actual theft occurs not through a premeditated plan but through a moment of confusion and overwhelming need. In a provision shop, the shopkeeper mistakenly gives him change for a crown when he had only asked for a candle. The narrator, struck by the sight of the money, gathers it up mechanically and leaves. He immediately recognizes this as his "first downright dishonesty," his "first great fall." The theft is not a calculated act but a passive, almost involuntary acceptance of another's error, born from a state of extreme deprivation.
The Weight of Conscience and the Attempt at Restitution
The stolen money weighs heavily on the narrator's conscience. He becomes "deadly afraid of himself" and pictures the police arresting him. The money "weighed in my pocket sinfully, and gave me no peace." He questions whether he was happier before, during the period he had suffered in all honor. In a desperate attempt to cleanse himself, he gives the entire sum to an old cake vendor, clapping the money into her hands without a word. He feels a "wonderful savour" in feeling himself an honest man once more, and his empty pockets trouble him no longer. This act of giving away the stolen money is a form of moral restitution, an attempt to lift himself above dishonor and prove to the world that he is capable of doing so. Yet, the relief is temporary. The memory of the theft and the shame it brings continue to haunt him.
Confession and the Failure of Absolution
The narrator's guilt drives him to confess his crime. He returns to the provision shop and confronts the shopkeeper, explaining the entire incident. He tells the man, "I have swindled you," and details how he took the money. The shopkeeper, however, fails to react with the outrage the narrator expects. He shifts uneasily, listens for footsteps, and only says, "It was a mean enough thing of you to do!" The narrator, in a perverse need for punishment, tries to aggravate the man, insisting that he gave the money away to a poor old woman. The shopkeeper's weak response leaves the narrator unsatisfied. He leaves, slamming the door, but later regrets his attack on the poor man, weeping and clutching himself by the throat to punish himself for his "miserable trick." The confession fails to provide absolution; instead, it deepens his self-loathing.
Theft as a Measure of Degradation
The narrator's relationship with theft becomes a barometer of his moral and physical decline. He reflects that he has "sunk to the lowest form of begging" and that his one day of begging had "coarsened my whole mind, bespattered my soul with shamelessness." The theft of the five shillings is a pivotal moment, a point of no return after which he feels he has become a thing loathsome to himself. The act of theft is not an isolated incident but the culmination of a long process of degradation, where each day he lets himself down "to less and less honest actions." The narrator's internal struggle with theft reveals the central conflict of the novel: the battle between a desperate will to survive and a deeply ingrained sense of honor. The theft is a symptom of his starvation, a moral wound that parallels his physical one, and its aftermath—the shame, the confession, the failed restitution—charts the final, agonizing stages of his collapse before he ultimately chooses to leave the city.

