Alfred, although pleased to note that reports of his death were greatly exaggerated, nevertheless turned his thoughts to leaving a slightly more savoury legacy. Over a century later, the tidy nest-egg he accumulated continues to fund the prestigious annual awards for science, literature and "fraternity" -- the Peace Prize.
The awards themselves reflect some of the volatility that characterised Mr Nobel's initial invention. This year is no exception, with the award for literature going to a Mr Bob Dylan.
Naturally, a great many people have already worked themselves into a lather questioning whether lyric writing be considered literature. Given that many poets have received the prize, one might also assume that lyrics -- whether sung or written -- are essentially of the same ilk.
Already recognised too is the element played by the rich organ of the voice in the transmission of "literature". In 1953, the prize went to Sir Winston Churchill "for his mastery of historical and biographical description as well as for brilliant oratory in defending exalted human values".
In the words of the awards committee, Bob came up trumps for "having created new poetic expressions within the great American song tradition".
That he did. More importantly, he did it his way. From the earliest days, the tousled elfin troubadour took no brook from the world as his idiosyncratic delivery whined and rasped out lyrics that shape-shifted quotidian words into parallel realities.
Keith Richards, the Stones man, had an interesting take on Bob's abilities. Other songwriters, Keef said, try to be like Bob and write lot of nonsense words which mean nothing, whereas Bob's nonsense always actually means something.
But Dylan's early breakthrough was no random event. Underscoring his talents was an encyclopaedic knowledge of the entire American -- and beyond -- folk, blues, and country music tradition. His appreciation of what made great songs great later extended to the wider songbook, latterly reinterpreting the likes of even old Sinatra standards.
With equal facility, he stepped out from the fanciful and emotionally resonant into stringent and cutting narrative (Hurricane), or allied social justice and political themes (A Hard Rain's a-Gonna Fall).
And all notwithstanding a relentless live performance regime he has maintained for decades.
Of Dylan's award, Leonard Cohen said that it was a bit like "pinning a medal on Mt Everest for being biggest mountain". Of Bob's punishing touring schedule, though, Cohen was edified to see "that Dylan had turned into just another working stiff".
In 1997, the great Norwegian adventurer Borge Ousland achieved the first -- and still only -- solo unsupported transcontinental crossing of Antarctica (clear water to clear water).
He was towing a sledge initially weighing 178kg. His only luxury was half-a-dozen cassette tapes and a Walkman, but even the minimal additional weight of these slight items proved straws threatening to break the camel's back.
So he ditched five of the tapes. The one he kept was the Jimi Hendrix version of Dylan's All Along the Watchtower which he played non-stop for two months as he solitarily trekked and hauled his way from one side of the immense frozen continent to the other.
"Outside in the cold distance
A wildcat did growl
Two riders were approaching
And the wind began to howl ... hey."
Hey, indeed.
