Each day, Cardle asks players to recognize a car from almost nothing — and Thursday's answer, the Citroën SM, reminded solvers why some machines resist easy categorization even in plain sight. Born from a 1968 union between Citroën and Maserati, the SM arrived in 1970 as a grand tourer that defied convention at every turn, from its self-levelling hydropneumatic suspension to its single-spoke steering wheel and speed-weighted DIRAVI system. What once made it bewildering to own and difficult to service has, with time, become the precise source of its enduring cultural and collector value — a rem
Citroën SM's Quirky Design Stumps Cardle Players Until Final Clue
Too strange to be comfortable, too clever to be mistaken
Why did the Cardle puzzle take so long to solve? Surely a car that distinctive would be obvious from the first clue.
That's the paradox of the SM. It's so unlike anything else that there's no visual shorthand to grab onto. When you see a fragment of a Porsche or a Mercedes, your brain has a reference library. The SM has no peers, so a piece of it looks like it could be almost anything.
The hydropneumatic suspension—was that really so revolutionary that it confused mechanics?
It was genuinely baffling to people trained on conventional springs and dampers. A system that kept the car level automatically, that adjusted to load and road surface in real time—that was science fiction to most garages in the early seventies. Now collectors hunt for SMs specifically because of that system.
It seems odd that a car with such clever engineering would struggle in the market.
The timing was brutal. The oil crisis hit just as the SM was finding its footing. Add emissions regulations and safety standards that the car couldn't easily meet, and suddenly that Maserati V6 became a liability rather than an asset. It was too expensive, too thirsty, too foreign in its thinking.
But it won European Car of the Year. That's a serious accolade.
It was, and it meant something then. The SM beat strong competition in 1971 when that award still carried real weight. It proved the car had merit beyond its strangeness. But merit and market success aren't always the same thing.
Do you think the SM would fare better if it arrived today?
Probably not commercially, but culturally? Absolutely. We've learned to value oddity and engineering integrity in ways we hadn't in 1975. The SM would find its audience now—just a smaller, more devoted one.
The Pulse
- Thursday's Cardle puzzle stalled solvers all morning, its opening frames offering little more than clean curves and an ambiguous colour that could have belonged to almost any car.
- The SM's radical design — the very quality that made it iconic — paradoxically stripped away the familiar reference points players rely on to anchor a guess.
- Behind the puzzle lay a genuinely strange machine: a Franco-Italian collaboration pairing Maserati's temperamental V6 with Citroën's suspension and steering systems that felt alien even to trained mechanics of the era.
- The SM won European Car of the Year in 1971 and reached roughly 13,000 American buyers before emissions rules and the oil crisis shut the door on its US chapter.
- The car's once-problematic oddity has inverted into desirability — collectors now seek out precisely the hydropneumatic complexity that made 1970s ownership so fraught.
Each day, Cardle asks players to recognize a car from almost nothing — and Thursday's answer, the Citroën SM, reminded solvers why some machines resist easy categorization even in plain sight. Born from a 1968 union between Citroën and Maserati, the SM arrived in 1970 as a grand tourer that defied convention at every turn, from its self-levelling hydropneumatic suspension to its single-spoke steering wheel and speed-weighted DIRAVI system. What once made it bewildering to own and difficult to service has, with time, become the precise source of its enduring cultural and collector value — a reminder that the things most resistant to their moment often outlast it.
Thursday's Cardle puzzle kept players guessing well into the morning. The game's format is unforgiving: five progressively clearer photographs, one mystery car, and no second chances once the day turns over. The SM's opening clues — clean lines, an indistinct colour — offered almost nothing to hold onto. Even as the silhouette sharpened, many solvers struggled. The SM's radical design, which made it so singular when it debuted in 1970, paradoxically left the eye with nowhere to anchor.
The car itself emerged from an unlikely alliance. Citroën acquired Maserati in 1968, and the SM was their joint statement: a 2.7-litre Maserati V6 beneath a body shaped entirely by Citroën's engineering philosophy. The hydropneumatic self-levelling suspension kept the car composed regardless of load or surface, baffling mechanics throughout the decade. The DIRAVI steering centred itself automatically and grew heavier with speed — a concept that felt futuristic then and reads as clever now. The single-spoke steering wheel completed an interior so boldly unconventional it teetered on the theatrical.
The SM was never a volume seller, but it earned genuine recognition — European Car of the Year in 1971, and around 13,000 units sold in the United States before emissions standards and the 1973 oil crisis ended its American chapter. What ultimately kept it alive in memory is the same quality that made it difficult to live with: it was too strange to be ordinary, too inventive to be forgotten. The hydropneumatic suspension that defeated mechanics in 1972 is now what collectors specifically seek. The temperamental Maserati V6 gives the car a voice no modern substitute could replicate. The SM endures because its oddity was never a flaw — it was always the point.
Thursday's Cardle puzzle—the daily game where a mystery car hides behind five progressively clearer photographs—kept solvers guessing through most of the morning. The opening clues showed little more than clean lines and a colour that could have belonged to almost anything. By the time the silhouette became unmistakable, the Citroën SM had already proven why it remains one of the most difficult cars to identify from fragments: there is simply nothing else like it on earth.
Cardle works on a simple principle. Each day, one car is locked behind five images. The first clue is nearly abstract—a sliver of bodywork, a curve, a hint of trim. By the fifth, enough is visible to make an educated guess. Players can skip ambiguous clues or commit early if something clicks. Once the day rolls over, there are no second chances. Today's puzzle demanded patience. The SM's radical design, which made it so distinctive when it arrived in 1970, paradoxically made it hard to place from a fragment. Without familiar reference points, the eye had nowhere to anchor.
The SM was born from an unlikely partnership. Citroën had acquired Maserati in 1968, and the SM represented their collaboration: Maserati supplied a 2.7-litre V6 engine derived from the Merak, while Citroën contributed everything else. What emerged was genuinely extraordinary. The hydropneumatic self-levelling suspension—a system that would baffle mechanics throughout the 1970s—kept the car level regardless of load or road surface. The DIRAVI power steering system centred the wheel automatically and weighted up with speed, a concept that felt futuristic in 1970 and still feels clever now. The single-spoke steering wheel became one of the most recognisable interiors of the era, a design choice so bold it bordered on the absurd.
The SM occupied an unusual market position. It had grand touring ambitions and avant-garde engineering, yet its price point put it within reach of many buyers, even though it was never a volume seller. Approximately 13,000 found their way to the United States before emissions regulations, safety standards, and the 1973 oil crisis effectively ended its American run. In 1971, it won the European Car of the Year award—a prize that carried real weight when European motoring journalism took such honours seriously.
What makes the SM endure is precisely what made it difficult to live with in period: it was too strange to be comfortable, too clever to be mistaken for anything conventional. The hydropneumatic suspension that bewildered mechanics in 1972 is now the thing collectors specifically seek out. The Maserati V6, temperamental as it could be, gives the car a sound and character that no modern replacement could replicate. The oddity that once seemed like a liability has become the very thing that keeps the SM alive in conversation, proof that automotive strangeness and engineering innovation create something that endures long after more sensible choices have been forgotten.
Notable Quotes
The SM is like nothing else on earth, which paradoxically makes it hard to identify from a fragment, as there's no familiar reference point to anchor the eye.— Cardle of the Day analysis