The more you drive the E-type in the modern world, the more you marvel at its modernity. It is superb

The greatest car of all time. The most iconic classic ever. Sensational. Unique. Ahead of its time. Take your pick; every description is fair. The Jaguar E-type is still lauded decades since its launch at the Parc des Eaux Vives in Geneva on 15 March 1961. It stunned the world with its futuristic and curvaceous styling, advanced specifications and real-world price of £2256, the equivalent today of £38,000. Not much for a Ferrari-baiter.

To say that the automotive press was shocked at the first sighting of the E-type Jaguar is an understatement. Malcolm Sayer’s bodywork was unlike that of any motor car seen before; it remains achingly beautiful yet is absolutely functional. Sayer was not a stylist but an aerodynamicist who designed the E-type according to mathematical principle with the help of calculus and a sliderule. This was purely form following function and the result is so pleasing, so elegant and completely beautiful, the only other mechanical object that comes close is the Supermarine Spitfire, another of Britain’s true heroes.

The design, engineering and creation of the E-type was a huge move forward for the automotive industry during the decade in which Neil Armstrong declared, as he set foot on the moon: ‘That’s one small step for [a] man, one giant leap for mankind.’ The Swinging Sixties were a time of revolution, liberation and innovation, and the E-type was right up there leading the changes. It made the Aston Martin DB4 look like a truck, the Bentley S2 like a lorry and Ferraris of the period – with live rear axles, cart springs and drum brakes – simply crude. And Lamborghini? Ferruccio was still building tractors in ’61.

As many collectors and commentators have opined, the E-type’s two principal failings are that 72,000 were built – and they were built down to a price. If the E were as rare as a Ferrari 250GT SWB (167 made) or Aston DB4 (1113 made), its value would be ten times what a decent example commands today. Obviously, from Jaguar’s point of view, being a sales success was good news and the country as a whole benefited from the massive export drive to America. Ubiquity and snobbery have held the E-type Jaguar down but now, as we celebrate the great sports car’s 50th anniversary, classic car connoisseurs have finally realised quite what a special machine it actually is.

‘Driving should be a joy, not a chore,’ said Sir William Lyons, founder of Jaguar. Let’s put his statement to the test. Sunday, 5.30am, central London, the dawn of what turns out to be the hottest day of the year so far. And also the coolest.

You walk towards the low and lithe form of the E-type Jaguar parked in a bay at the rear of a London garage. Swing open the door, which feels dainty and small. The aperture necessitates a wriggle but, once you’re ensconced, the driver’s seat is soft and comfortable, the legroom ample if lacking in width. Insert the ignition key, slide the choke a fraction, turn the key, allow the fuel pump to prime the triple SU carburettors, then thumb the black starter button. The six-cylinder engine fires quietly and idles cleanly.

Swinging out onto the deserted city streets you notice the light and immediate steering through the thin wooden rim (the only wood in the cockpit). The clutch is smooth and light; the action of the still-cold gearbox easy. But what you really notice is the young couple heading home after a night’s partying. They stop, mouths agape as the Carmen Red E hoves into view. The girl points, then jumps up and down, waving and squealing with delight as the man grapples with his mobile phone camera. The quietly burbling E-type has that effect on everyone who sees it. Joy is infectious and, man, does it feel good.

The car you see here is neither the first nor the rarest E-type but simply one of the best. It’s a 1966 Series 1 4.2 roadster, which makes it the nicest-driving of E-types thanks to ongoing improvements implemented by Jaguar during the model’s evolution. The earliest Series 1 3.8 roadsters are prized for their purity and rarity but, though they are the best to look at, the 4.2, launched in 1964, is the better to drive. This is thanks to the 3.8’s antiquated, crunchy Moss gearbox being replaced by a slick all-synchro job, as well as a much better braking system, improved engine cooling and much more comfortable seats. In addition, the lusty 4235cc six-cylinder engine is absolutely fantastic: quiet, well-behaved, torquey and powerful, stonking out an easy 265bhp (so it was claimed, though nearer 240 in reality) at 5500rpm, with 216lb ft of torque at 4000rpm.

As the E-type warms you allow it to rev a little more down the empty streets. The magnificent 4.2-litre twin-overhead-cam engine – derived from a Le Mans-winner’s, no less – remains superlative and you think this is the best thing about this impressive sports car. It even looks gorgeous, but you soon appreciate that the rest of the E-type’s impressive specification is more than up to the task.

The slimline yet beautiful E-type weighs just 1250kg – today Porsche’s 2.9-litre Boxster weighs 1335kg – thanks to its D-type-derived tub and complex construction. With the strong engine hardly breaking a sweat to haul such a lightweight chassis, no wonder the E-type is super-responsive and fabulously accelerative.

You snuggle down and start to enjoy the dynamics. With the soft top furled, the long tunnels under the City of London are a pleasure as the growl of the engine reverberates off the walls. Snick the gearbox into third, add some juice and the E’s quiet burble morphs into a hard snarl.

Fly a bit too quickly into a roundabout, dab the powerful disc brakes and chuck the E into the turn. Let the body lean on the soft-set suspension and allow it to take up the roll; it settles, then you squirt it around on the throttle. Quite what a driver of 1966 would have made of this easy and crushing performance is actually well recorded. As The Autocar noted in 1967: ‘This Jaguar Roadster is unique. Its performance, ex-works price, steering, roadholding, tractability, economy, comfort and good looks may be matched by other sports or GT cars but none of them has the lot.’ Well put.

The slightly more purple Car & Driver scribbled in 1965: ‘It’s like that woman you used to love, the one you’d never waste another minute on. You can avoid her for months but one night she calls and you’d crawl naked across three hundred yard of flaming gasoline and broken bottles to get to her… it’s a Jaguar. It reeks of purest automotive erotica.’ Henry Manney added that the E-type was ‘the greatest crumpet-catcher known to man’.

I say, steady on; this is a sports car designed and engineered by chaps with short-back-and-sides haircuts, who smoke pipes and wear sensible grey suits. Well, apart from Norman Dewis, the bootlace-tied Jaguar test driver.

The more you drive the E-type in the modern world, the more you marvel at its, well, its modernity. It is superb. The steering has that light immediacy no car of today can touch. The engine is fluid, smooth and utterly beguiling. The brakes work well, the gearbox is wrist-flick light, and the fully independent suspension is soft and absorbent. This car, generously loaned by classic car dealer Peter Bradfield, is an absolutely stock example. It is essentially a new E-type exactly as it left the factory in 1966. This is because it is a 100-point concours-winner, so everything down to the last decal is as it should be. So no little mechanical tweaks here or improvements there: this example is as pure as the local village virgin, to use completely the wrong analogy.

So why am I mildly surprised when it starts every time in the heat as the photographer insists on moving it a couple of inches one way or another for every photograph? The Smiths temperature gauge moves up towards 80 degrees and the electric fan cuts in, no problem, and all the controls remain sweet and light all day. Early Series 1 E-types got a reputation for unreliability, largely in America where their cooling system was not adequate. And, yes, the old-fashioned Moss gearbox was at odds with the car’s otherwise thoroughly modern demeanour. Sir William Lyons was a notorious penny-pincher and the component suppliers were ruthlessly squeezed, so fittings such as Lucas electrics and dynamos soon earned the ‘Prince of Darkness’ moniker.

Being affordable and numerous, after their first flush of exciting youth many E-types fell into banger status, so were neglected and allowed to deteriorate. Criticism continued about the overly soft suspension and brakes, probably because the strong engine could still deliver 140mph speeds that a worn-out chassis couldn’t readily contain. The E-type is a complex car and the front subframe and rear suspension deteriorate, so tired old dogs feel loose and sloppy to drive.

Not so with this perfect example. It shows how structurally taut a good E can be. It has the full 150mph urge and the pliant yet controlled chassis to handle it all with elegance and ease. The best trait is that the E-type does it all with cool understated Englishness. Unlike over-excited Italian sports cars of the period, or noisy German ones for that matter, the E always remains calm yet still very fast. And very beautiful.