Return of the Renault 5
Now 50 years old, the Renault 5’s rich and diverse history once included an electric version – and soon will again
I hadn’texpected 36bhp to feel particu-larly daunting, but the sight of a gearlever sprouting from the middle of the dash has thrown me. I’m trying out a super-early and super-pristine Renault 5, and I have to turn around in a tight dirt track, necessitating a deft switch from second to reverse and then into first using a gearchange arrangement that is way outside my usual parameters.
I have visions of angry French farmers growing im-patient with an incompetent Englishman graunching the gears of a beloved classic. I needn’t have worried, though, as the ’box has a positive action that makes shifting through the four forward gears a pleasurable process. I stop, pull it out of gear and twist right until I feel the detent for reverse and pull back, successfully engaging my desired cogwheel. This isn’t just easy, it’s a delight.
Thankfully the road is virtually empty as the tiny 782cc four-cylinder engine struggles up to 30mph in the most leisurely fashion I’ve experienced for years, all while sounding like a cement mixer full of spoons. But you know what? I’m already in love. The four-wheel independent suspension and generous sidewalls provide a ride quality that is vastly superior to the Mercedes-AMG EQS I’d been driving the day before. As I potter through the French countryside at a glacial pace, I can’t help but grin as I feel the unassisted steering chattering away and the body pitch over during cornering. This is a truly joyful car.
But what is it that makes the 5 such a special thing? It takes a team of hundreds if not thousands to make a good car, but a single visionary to produce a truly great one. While names like Issigonis, Piëch and Chapman spring to mind, the Renault 5 is proof posi-tive that such a list should also include Michel Boué.
A reserved designer who joined Renault at the tail end of the ’50s, Boué was inspired to sketch the 5 in his own time after Renault’s head of planning pushed through plans to introduce a chic alternative to the rugged 4 in 1967. It was a contentious design with just two doors at a time the French expected four, a practi-cal hatchback with clean lines incorporating wrap-around bumpers and faired-in lights. Despite the avant-garde exterior Boué cleverly proposed using the running gear of the 4, slashing development costs. Management quickly saw potential in this quiet, unassuming man’s work, especially after a polysty-rene model was created just two days after that initial sketch, hammering home the design’s impact and universal appeal. Over the next two years – an excep-tionally short period for the time – Boué’s design
