From Issue Seven of Gear Patrol Magazine.
“It is possible that the Déesse marks a change in the mythology of cars. Until now, the ultimate in cars belonged rather to the bestiary of power; here it becomes at once more spiritual and more object-like.” – Roland Barthes, Mythologies (1957)
Idon’t know if the French philosopher Roland Barthes had ever ridden in the Citroën DS when he wrote the essay “The New Citroën” for his book Mythologies. But I’m sitting shotgun in a gleaming red DS21 Pallas from 1972, rolling at a leisurely pace through a forest some 25 miles west of Chicago’s city center, and all I can think about is that quote. As sure as the sun will rise, Mythologies will be referenced in almost any discussion of the DS (which, by the way, is a phonetic play on the French word déesee, which means “goddess”). Experience one in person and you almost immediately understand why: Barthes fucking nailed it.
It’s the line “more spiritual and more object-like,” that gets me. Cars, at least good ones, can be more than the sums of their parts, but it’s usually because of their driving characteristics. The DS, though, doesn’t need to be driven. You merely need to observe its details and design up close and in person to see what Barthes meant by “object-like,” and why he and the rest of the European populace viewed it as almost otherworldly when it debuted at the Paris Motor Show 1955. “It is obvious that the new Citroën has fallen from the sky,” Barthes went on.
Start at the front where you’ll notice the slim, long chrome hood ornament doubling as a handle. Move to the front quarter and witness the line of the front fender flow smoothly into the beltline of the greenhouse, then ever-so-gently drop off into nothingness at the back, forming a teardrop profile. The chrome strakes that comprise the roofline similarly run uninterrupted and parallel with the bottom of the car, ending gracefully in a pair of rear turn indicators. The pillars holding the lid up are thin, accentuating the glass greenhouse and making the roof appear as though it is floating.
Then open the door and step over the chrome doorsill adorned with subtle, crosshatched texturing. Fall into the plush, cloud-like leather bench, which puts every other car seat ever made to shame. Gaze at the sleek, simple dashboard and the elegant single-spoke steering wheel, which has practically become a minimalist design icon in its own right. Pull the sculpted chrome door handle. Feel the supple leather loop grab handle mounted to the ceiling. Every little detail is a visual and tactile delight.