After nine years of research and development, studies on what the consumers wanted and the investment involved with a clean-sheet design, the Chevrolet Corvair appeared on the American market for 1960. The era of the whitewall sled had done two things for the automobile buyer: it had shown them what a good compact car could be in the form of vehicles like the Volkswagen Beetle, Renault Dauphine, and Rambler American, and it had opened their eyes to their own needs versus what the Big Three had been selling them in the past. Frugal, more reasonably sized machines were the way to buyer's hearts and AMC had scored a major run by repurposing the former Nash Rambler for a second, separate model run, something that should have never been successful. Ford and Chrysler had tried to downsize their full-size offerings at first while working up new vehicle lines, but GM went the furthest into radical territory, because nothing about the Corvair was traditional for an American auto manufacturer of the time.
An air-cooled boxer-style engine mounted at the rear of the car was like a Volkswagen. The rear-engine, rear-drive layout could be traced back to a Tatra. The body was trimmer than a Chevrolet Biscayne by a wide mile (the Chevy II was two years away from production) and it had fully independent suspension all around. The first generation of Corvair (1960-64) sold well, with two-door, four-door, station wagon, pickup and van variations composing the total. But sales dropped for 1964, and the answer for the decline was summed up in one word: Mustang. Ford's sporty re-do of the Falcon compact was more than a sales hit, it was a shot across the bow to every single manufacturer. The Mustang shattered sales records for a new model and gave GM something to chew on when it came to the next generation.
The 1965-1969 Corvair was a streamlined affair compared to the first generation: the van would continue for 1965 before going away. The truck and station wagon were already gone. Until the end, it was two-door hardtop, four-door hardtop, and droptop. They were lookers...David E. Davis, Jr. wrote in the October, 1964 issue of Car and Driver:
"When the pictures of the '65 Corvair arrived in our offices, the man who opened the envelope actually let out a great shout of delight and amazement on first seeing the car, and in thirty seconds the whole staff was charging around, each wanting to be the first to show somebody else, each wanting the vicarious kick of hearing that characteristic war-whoop from the first-time viewer."
So why is the Corvair name so tainted? Well...how do we discuss this subject without involving one Ralph Nader? In 1965, Nader published a book, Unsafe at Any Speed, which took aim at Detroit's seemingly cavalier attitude towards passenger safety. But it's better remembered for the first chapter, "The Sporty Corvair - The One-Car Accident". Nader singled out the early Corvair for its swing-arm rear suspension that he felt made the car too dangerous for standard use. (Nevermind that in 1972, the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration completely absolved the Corvair of the reputation, comparing it favorably with a Ford Falcon, a Plymouth Valiant, a Volkswagen Beetle, and a Renault Dauphine. Or that the Beetle itself used the same exact suspension design.)
So the car was just fine. And the second-gen was a sporty machine, with more power than ever, striking looks that hold up even today, and a pedigree helped along by SCCA competitors and the likes of Don Yenko and his "Stinger" Corvair racers. It's a pity that the Corvair went out with a whimper in 1969 after years of downward sales thanks to one activist from Connecticut and his laser-targeted aim on Chevrolet's smaller sporty car. So why not give the rear-engined machine a second chance? We reached out to Rotislav Prokop and asked him to try to conjure up a reborn Corvair. Here's what he came up with: