Doug Nye: Driving Ambition: The Official Inside Story of the McLaren F1
The V12 Engine: The Untold Story of Technology, Evolution, Performance and Impact of All
Gnarlyness need not be about metal or even fiberglass or carbon fiber. A spirit of fine workmanship must infuse a gnarly object. In this world, even a knit Ferrari can be very gnarly indeed. This is why we dig the underside of a Galaxie rocket car even when it is standing still:
Look at the beautiful finish on the leaf springs. And at the triangular truss structure bracing the live axle. Beautifully worked, mindfully executed.
What makes something gnarly? And when can one be sure that one is experiencing true unabashed gearhead gnarlyness, and not some flimsy substitute?
Weighty questions.
I'm not sure of the answer(s). I know gnarlyness when I see it, but I'm only just starting to tease out the underlying design principles. Perhaps I'll embark on a public journey, a la John Maeda and his Laws of Simplicity, of surfacing the true drivers of gnarlyness via a public conversation. Let's see. Where this goes depends largely on you.
For now, though, I think gnarlyness happens when four design principles are held in mind:
1. Embrace the visceral, dude:
2. Have a strong point of view:
3. Celebrate workmanship:
4. Be red. Really, really red: