When cars were dreams and automotive journalists were artists

I recently found an excerpt from an article taken from a 1938 Italian magazine that I believe can warm the heart of all the "petrolheads" of the world. So I translated it to share it with you, hoping that it could give you the same emotions that it instilled to me. I would be happy to know what you think about it.

From "L'Auto Italiana" - February 10th, 1938.

"The cars then emanated what I called the perfume of happiness, composed mostly of rubber that was easy to dissolve (the iron tires of today have lost this virtue) and of oozing of mineral oil on hot metals, with a slight aromatic background of good gasoline from that time, evaporating from the carburetor (today's heavy petrol is much more ... discreet). "

"This unmistakable complex perfume enclosed all the joyful promises of the automobile, when the car was precisely a wonderful promise of many weeks, and an overwhelming joy of a few hours: when we loved the car just for being a car, for its special ability, still marked by magic, to make us run around the world, regardless of the destination.

Today the greenhouse flower, so well cultivated, has been extraordinarily embellished, but has lost its fragrance. And it has lost the faculty of letting us capture the scent of the fields, which no longer penetrates the closed sedan, or the scent of the street, which has smothered the smell of the earth in its tapestry.

And these two silent, smooth and too perfect odourless utilities of our life - the car that runs fast and the road that rapidly recedes - removed the dress made of dreams that the world was wearing for us at the time"

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