Lamentations of a Mercedes-Benz SL Man

From the May 2017 issue

Is anyone paying attention to the sad fate befalling the Mercedes-Benz SL? Its sales have shriveled alarmingly, and its body has been contorted into some sad parody of a rich guy’s ride, a neo–Zimmer Golden Spirit for those who can’t stretch for a Bentley. This used to be the ultimate sporting gent’s car and the white-hot core of its storied brand. Symbolically speaking, the SL was as important to ­Mercedes-Benz as the 911 still is to Porsche, as the Wrangler is to Jeep.

Throughout its six-decade-plus history, it had no peer. No other car could dispatch long distances and long sweeping curves with equal grace; sidelong competition from BMWs as varied as the 507 and the 6-series convertible couldn’t unseat it as the king. And as much as it evolved—from the aero-­influenced 300SL Gullwing and roadster to Paul Bracq’s Pagoda speedboat to the tech showcase of the R129—the car remained true to itself: everlasting, untouchable, and perfectly ahead of its time.