If your first thought about Lamborghini Miuras is that film, you’re in good company. It was the same for Simon Kidston, collector, car broker and father of this book, and now an owner. If your first thought on seeing the book is ‘this is beautiful’ then you’re in company with me, too – it is stylish and fabulously presented. The square format allows for large photos and drawings you can see properly –a lovely Vic Berris cutaway gets a double-page spread, much bigger than it would have been in Autocar originally. And there’s another surprise – an internal foldout bearing a vast black-andwhite profile shot of chassis designer Giampaolo Dallara’s own Miura. Several more equally beautiful pop out through the book. But if there’s a negative to the design, it’s that the text is small, the captions are smaller, and the footnotes (yes, there are footnotes!) too much for my aged eyes. If you’re over 40 have your readers ready.
Presnell enjoys a mystery, spending two pages on whether Gandini or Giugiario deserves the visual credit (it’s Gandini) and a page on the name – it’s not a type of bull after all but the surname of a bull breeder in Spain. Strictly speaking, says Presnell, if named for the bull then the car should have been a Lamborghini Lidia.
Miuras unleashed: the svelte supercar wasn’t only seen on the boulevards of Europe. As this splendid book illustrates, several enthusiastic owners took their V12 chargers racing, too