Russell Bulgin - Bulgin (2002)
Russell Bulgin was a motoring journalist of extraordinary passion and clarity. His style (which translated brilliantly to his TV appearances) was that of someone for whom motoring emotions were visceral things. When he died, of lymphatic cancer, in May 2002, I was genuinely sad, which is unusual for me with people I haven’t met.
Bulgin then is a collection of Russell’s works, starting with his first articles for Car & Car Conversions, and ending with personal e-mails sent during his final weeks. It’s been put together by his friends, with support from some major companies, with all proceeds going to the hospital that cared for him during his illness. But I did not buy this book for its charitable intent.
Bulgin’s cover is typical of the man. It’s outwith the capabilities of the scanner and the JPEG format, but it’s plain white, with BULGIN writ large, stamped in white ink. This is one instance where a book can be judged by its cover. The parsimony replayed again and again in incisive writing throughout.
The variety in the choice of articles is amazing. From historical pieces, through explanations of why Gran Turismo is more important to car culture than television, to the simple, yet incredibly touching obituary of Russell’s personal friend Ayrton Senna.
Russell had an ability to get racing stars to work with him, getting Ayrton Senna to test rally cars in Wales and then being driven around the Nurburgring by Michael Schumacher, or to Le Mans by Maurizio Sala in a McLaren F1. All three are extremely interesting passages, connecting with the drivers, showing the writer’s admiration for them without being sycophantic or simpering.
But my favourite of the articles is Rain Stopped Play (“a doomed attempt to drive the awesome Lotus Carlton at 176mph in Germany”). For me, it explains, in only as many words as required, what made this man so special. I’ll let Russell take over:
“And – just before we get into the white-knuckle narrative of this lust-for-glory mission – might I be allowed one further digression? Who the hell is going to buy this car? What kind of person spends £48,000 on a Wongacarlt which could go subsonic on the M4? What kind of person wants this car, the mere ownership of which is an admission that they think driving bloody quickly is more fun than sex?
“Gruntcarlt is aimed at the type of bloke who thought that the original Ford Sierra RS Cosworth was a trifle understated and a teensy bit on the slow side. Your first glance captures all the codes: the thing is an exaggerated Batmobile of thick hips, heavy-lidded wings and gaping scoops. In autumn half-light, the colour slips from metallic British Racing Green to a cold, sombre black, upping its visual menace to levels which induce instant left-lane paranoia among other vehicles on the road.
“If Vauxhall’s sleek Calibra suggests that GM’s design boss Wayne Cherry spends his free time in quiet contemplation of the surface tension inherent through the solid-hewn contours of a Braun electric razor, then Thrustcarlt hints that Wayne and his guys also enjoy playing Motorhead albums very loud while leafing through photo-albums full of Stealth Fighter pictures.”
It’s quite simple: This is a collection of the best works of my favourite ever motoring journalists. His style was unique. I used to buy magazines simply to read his columns, and this book is faithful to that and to his memory. Stunning. 10/10
