Citroën’s spaceship for the road still has the ability to astonish with its cleverness and complexity, 50 years after it was launched
Citroën has previous when it comes to surprising the world with out-there engineering. It did so with its Traction Avant in 1934, repeated the trick with the 2CV in 1948 and created an even bigger stir with the DS in 1955. So perhaps the world shouldn’t have been too surprised that the CX was just as extraordinary as its predecessors when Citroën unleashed it half a century ago. Designed to replace the DS, the CX built upon that model’s already advanced spec with improved super-smooth hydropneumatic self-levelling suspension, VariPower assisted and self-centring steering and spaceship-like sleek looks complemented by an interior that was just as futuristic. It was utterly, indisputably, inexorably a Citroën.
Our test vehicle here comes from the CX’s later years, after the progression to Series II form. The chrome bumpers were now plastic, there were changes of exterior trim and the revamped interior was a little more conventional – but not so much that Ford owners would feel completely at home. ‘Ours’ is even more special than because it’s the long wheelbase ultra-executive Prestige model with a wheelbase that’s eight inches longer and sumptuous leather upholstery.
You can’t enter a CX without first admiring its Robert Opron design; no, really, you can’t, because the shape is so sleek, svelte and stunning that it’s impossible to ignore. Being so low to the ground – at rest, of course… the CX sinks to its minimum suspension setting barely inches above the Tarmac – it genuinely looks like something from another planet, albeit one where they like lots of gold and black vinyl. There’s barely anything visible of the rear wheels behind their spats. Of course, this means you also have to lower yourself considerably to get in. But there’s an almost absurd amount of space to stretch out in once you’ve settled in the squeaky leather seats, whether up front or in the back.
The dashboard and controls are mesmerising. And quite, quite mad, too, though not quite as outright crazy as the Series I’s rotating drum gauges. Series II CXs have conventional clock-type gauges but the paddle-type controls clustered around the binnacle beyond the single-spoke steering wheel, and the radio mounted face-up alongside the handbrake are still proof that Citroën didn’t compromise the car’s eccentricities too much for its mid-Eighties facelift.
Fire most cars up and any drama is generally from the sound of the engine. The Prestige’s generous soundproofing suppresses that but instead the spaceship analogy is reinforced by the hydropneumatic suspe
