Maximum Bugatti? Type 55 Super Sport

Bugattis from the 1920s and 1930s were already considered classic cars halfway through the 20th century, when the factory in Alsace Lorraine was still talking about relaunching car production. In 1951 Ken Purdy was writing worshipful prose about them in his pioneering book, Kings of the Road, and heaping praise upon other certified collector's items like Alfa Romeo and Hispano-Suiza. The Type 35 Bugatti had compiled the longest list of victories in racing history; and the vast Type 41 Royale, a holy grail for collectors with only half a dozen built, was one of the biggest cars in memory.  But Purdy began his Bugatti chapter with a little blue coupe appearing in the distance down a tree-lined road, aiming to make the Paris to Nice run in record time...

This reminded the reader that the name Bugatti was mostly associated with lightweight, nimble cars producing a remarkable amount of power from relatively small engines. The giant Royale, after all, had been a commercial flop. Where would one look to find the essential Bugatti, the Maximum Bugatti?  No, not the modern 1,000 hp lifestyle accessory that maker VW claims is a Bugatti, but the one Bugatti combining the technical details, visual design themes and personality traits most associated with the marque...

                                                

You could easily make a less worthy choice than the Type 55, built from 1931 to '35, and powered by the 2.3 liter inline 8 cylinder Type 51 GP engine, itself a twin-cam supercharged version of the SOHC block that had powered the immortal Type 35 racer.  Beginning with the trademark flat horseshoe radiator (Bugatti's slogan was Le Pur Sang, the purebred among cars), Jean Bugatti, son of founder Ettore, sketched what became the essence of roadster form, with the whimsical sine-wave fenders sheltering flat-spoke alloy wheels made famous on Bugatti racers.  Even for a machine, it had an especially mechanical character, with solid axles front and rear, and mechanical brakes. Unlike Delage, Bugatti was slow to adopt hydraulics...

The fold-down windshield and deeply scooped door panels, along with the purposeful arrangement of controls and instruments, were a reminder of the car's purpose: fun for those who could afford it. Prices matched those of the competing Alfa Romeo 8C 2300 which also appeared in 1931: about $10,000, a fortune back then. The twin spare tires mounted at the rear were a reminder that the fun might be interrupted. The maintenance routines that Bugattis demanded of their owners were so notorious that around a decade after Purdy's book, the magazine Sports Car Quarterly printed an article entitled "Be Glad You Don't Own a Bugatti."

The engines were things of beauty, though, with shear, crisp geometry, allegedly influenced by Cubism, and hand-tooled patterns on the cam covers that became another trademark feature. Power was about 130-135 hp, a bit less than the 2.3 liter Alfa 8C, but the T55 Super Sport shown here weighs a bit less than 2,100 lb.  This example, from 1933, lives in the Collier Collection at the Revs Institute and gets exercised regularly. The museum catalog points out that some of those people who feel this is the most beautiful of sports car designs are not even Bugatti fans.  Bugatti built some impressive cars after it, including the Type 57 road cars and Type 59 GP car, but none of them ever looked more like a Bugatti than this one.

*Footnote:  The Bugatti T57 Atlantic was feature in our post for June 11, 2017 entitled "Authenticity vs. Originality: A Tale of Four (or Five} Bugattis", and a rare T51 with coupe bodywork is shown in "On a Lazy Afternoon in 1987" from May 18, 2019.

Photo Credit:  Paul Anderson