In this copy of The Old Man and the Sea, there is an inscription by Ernest Hemingway to a nurse who cared for him for a time shortly before his death. The Old Man and the Sea was published in 1952 and is mentioned specifically in the Swedish Academy’s prize citation for the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1954. Due to poor health, Hemingway was unable to travel to Stockholm to accept the prize. During a trip to the Congo and Uganda earlier that year, he had barely survived two plane crashes and would suffer from the aftereffects of the accidents for the rest of his life. To ease his pain, he increased his already high consumption of alcohol. He also suffered from several other health problems. At times, he was able to continue his writing, but in 1960 he was struck by deep depression. He was treated for his psychological problems on two occasions at Saint Marys Hospital, Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota. Serving there were Franciscan sisters, members of the Catholic congregation Sisters of Saint Francis. One of the nurses who cared for Hemingway was named Helen Hayes and was also known as Sister Immaculata. The inscription in the book is addressed to her: To Sister Immaculata this book, hoping to write another one as good for her when my writing luck is running well again, and it will. Ernest Hemingway St. Mary’s June 16 1961 Hemingway’s writing luck, however, would never return. On June 30 he was discharged and returned to his home in Ketchum, Idaho, where he took his life on July 2. The inscription in the book is probably the last written words by Hemingway that have been preserved. The book was donated to the Nobel Prize Museum by the Franciscan Sisters of Rochester in 2026. The initiative for the donation was taken by Hemingway expert Curtis DeBerg.

These portrait busts depict Francis Crick and James Watson, who in 1953 discovered the structure of the DNA molecule. In 2012, marking 50 years since Crick and Watson, together with Maurice Wilkins, were awarded the Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine, the Nobel Prize Museum contacted James Watson with a request for a contribution to the museum’s collections. Watson then suggested that the sculptor Daniel Altshuler could be commissioned to create two portrait busts of him and Crick. The result was these two bronze busts. The busts were made possible through a financial contribution from Hans Rausing in 2012.

This image is a copy of a rarely reproduced photograph of Santiago Ramón y Cajal as a young man. The image was donated to the Nobel Prize Museum by Santiago Ramón y Cajal’s family in 2025.

This wooden printing block bears an illustration of Santiago Ramón y Cajal. It is probable that he not only executed the original drawing but also engraved the image into the block himself. Commissioning such work from a professional engraver was costly, so Cajal learned the craft of engraving the image into the wood. The block is made of boxwood, which is very hard and lacks distinct growth rings. The illustration depicts a cross-section of the midbrain of a newborn mouse. The section is a sagittal cut—a vertical slice that divides the brain into a left and a right side. The printing block was donated to the Nobel Prize Museum by Santiago Ramón y Cajal’s great-grandson, Ángel Cañadas Bernal, in 2025. He presented the gift on behalf of the family.

This drawing is a preparatory sketch for an illustration in one of Santiago Ramón y Cajal’s scientific works on the brain and nervous system. The image shows a vertical cross-section of the thalamus, a part of the midbrain, in an eight-day-old mouse. Ramón y Cajal created his images after studying a thin slice of the brain under a microscope. To make the nerve cells visible, Cajal stained them using a method developed by Camillo Golgi, who shared the 1906 Nobel Prize in Physiology or Medicine with Cajal. After the preparatory drawing, he produced a clean, finalized version that was used for the printed image in the scientific work. Ramón y Cajal’s images are characterized by clarity, precision, and rich detail, demonstrating great artistic talent. In his youth, Ramón y Cajal wanted to become an artist but was encouraged by his family to pursue medicine. His artistic skill and interest proved invaluable in his exploration of the brain, the nervous system, and its various types of cells. The drawing was donated to the Nobel Prize Museum by Santiago Ramón y Cajal’s great-grandson, Ángel Cañadas Bernal, in 2025. He presented the gift on behalf of the family.

This poster presents an art gallery that was run by Phillippe Aghion’s father, Raymond Aghion in 1956–1966. The gallery was in Saint-Germain-des-Près in Paris, a neighbourhood with a vibrant art scene. The family moved in artist circles. The names of some of the artists who exhibited at the gallery are featured on this poster. It was designed by the Israeli artist Igael Tumarkin around 1960. Tumarkin believed it was crucial with a dialogue between Israel and Palestine, and Aghion shared his opinion. Aghion’s parents were both from Jewish families in Alexandria, Egypt, and moved to Paris when they were young. His mother, Gaby Aghion, became a famous fashion designer and founded the Chloé label. His father, Raymond, was a politically active communist and worked for a social revolution in his native Egypt. One of his aims was that everyone should have access to new technology, in a better and more equal society. Technological development and economic growth are what Philippe Aghion’s research is about. Phillippe Aghion donated this poster to the Nobel Prize Museum in 2025 as a tribute to his parents.

Joel Mokyr bought this record when he was 15. It was the first LP he ever bought, and he still thinks Schubert’s ninth symphony is among the most perfect pieces ever composed. The recording of the Philharmonia Orchestra conducted by Otto Klemperer is from 1962, and Mokyr considers it to be the best one ever made. The album also serves to illustrate Mokyr’s research into how new technology makes old technology obsolete. We can now listen to the music on digital streaming services instead of on vinyl and CDs. Joel Mokyr donated the LP to the Nobel Prize Museum in 2025.

László Krasznahorkai has made numerous trips to China and Japan and written several stories that are set in Japan. On one of his visits, he bought this netsuke, a Japanese miniature sculpture, which has been very important to him. The netsuke represents a wise old man. The wise man is very calm. The artist has not portrayed him as someone who is contemplating. Instead, he seems to be beyond thinking, since there is no longer any reason for him to think. To be at one with existence is sufficient for him, and this is why the wise man is so peaceful and happy. This also gave Krasznahorkai new insights. After writing his novel War and War, Krasznahorkai experienced a personal crisis and thought he could never write again. Without the wise man, he could never have resumed his writing. A netsuke was originally a kind of button – it was used to hold clothing such as kimonos together. From the 19th century, netsukes became more ornately crafted. It is not entirely easy to identify the artist who made this netsuke, since several artists worked under the name of Mazakasu. But the originator was probably Mazakasu Sawaki, who was born in Nagoya but lived and worked in Osaka for most of the late 1800s. Krasznahorkai bought the netsuke from the artist’s family. László Krasznahorkai donated the small figurine of the wise man to the Nobel Prize Museum in 2025, thanking the museum for keeping it safe even when he is no longer alive. “It is so vulnerable, so small. It can be lost, it can be broken. But if it can remain here, I will be at peace.”

For Fred Ramsdell, these shoes are linked to a special memory. Here is his story: “So, there I was, on the last day of a nearly 4-week camping trip. We’d just driven through Yellowstone National Park and had stopped the truck at an unoccupied campground to let the dogs wander around a little. As we neared ‘civilization’, my wife Laura checked her phone for the first time in over a week. And then she begins to cry out. I’m wondering what’s going on – and she comes out with a big grin and tells me I’ve won the Nobel Prize. I honestly didn’t believe her at first, but then, it was abundantly clear that I had, in fact, won the Nobel Prize. I was wearing these shoes when she told me – I’d been wearing them virtually every day for the past 4 weeks. We’d hiked hundreds of miles and driven hundreds more. We get into the mountains as often as possible, but almost always take an extended trip in September when most people have gone back to work or school. It’s a way for me to look at life, including science, from a different perspective. Back in the days when we were trying to identify and characterize the scurfy mouse, we would backpack regularly (we had younger dogs back then). Scientific progress is often a painstakingly slow process, with many false steps and delayed gratification. It’s a wonderful career, but it can also be extremely frustrating. Being able to get out of my own head helps me ‘recharge’ and sometimes see a problem from a new perspective. Hiking rarely leads to any scientific breakthrough, but, like science, it feeds my soul.” (Scurfy mice have scaly skin, caused by a genetic defect that causes a lack of regulatory T cells. Scurfy mice were crucial to the research that led to Fred Ramsdell and Mary Brunkow receiving the Nobel Prize.) Fred Ramsdell donated the shoes to the Nobel Prize Museum in 2025.

This sculpture is associated with Darwin Molecular, a small biotech company in Seattle, Washington, USA, where Mary Brunkow and Fred Ramsdell did their early research on the immune system’s regulatory T cells. The sculpture was made by Pat Moss, a colleague at Darwin Molecular, who had metalwork as a hobby. It is a Darwin fish, a fictional creature with legs. The Darwin fish has been used as a counterpoint to the stylised fish that has come to signify Christianity, representing the view that all species have been created through evolution and not by a higher power. Darwin Molecular used evolutionary processes in their research and development, and the Darwin fish was adopted as a symbol within the company. The sculpture, which exists in several copies, originally served as a trophy in the company’s annual golf tournament. When Mary Brunkow was awarded the Nobel Prize, a former colleague gifted this trophy to her. Mary Brunkow donated the trophy to the Nobel Prize Museum in 2025.

The two mouse ornaments Shimon Sakaguchi donated to the Nobel Prize Museum have a special significance: “In recognition of the ethical principles that guide scientific research, I am honored to donate this handmade ornament to the Nobel Prize Museum. It was created by my mother many decades ago as a heartfelt reminder to uphold the spirit of animal welfare in my immunology work. A woman of great artistic talent with a passion for pottery and painting, she crafted this mouse ornament with great care and skill. Throughout my academic career, I have cherished this ornament and displayed it in my office at every institution where I have served. It now finds its rightful place among objects that celebrate the values and responsibilities of science. In addition, I am honored to donate a second mouse ornament, which belonged to my wife, Noriko. Just as we have walked this path of science together, supporting one another as partners in both life and research, it is our sincere wish that these two mice remain together in the museum as a symbol of that enduring partnership.” Shimon Sakaguchi donated the mouse ornaments to the Nobel Prize Museum in 2025.