Boring?! Bah! Driving 70 Years of Volvo History Is a Fascinating Affair

The first Volvo arrived on U.S. shores in 1955, and the safety-obsessed Swedish marque has since woven itself into American automotive culture’s fabric. We believe the best way to explore an automaker’s rich history is to drive its cars, and Volvo happily opened the key box to its extensive collection of historic vehicles. Just how has Volvo evolved over all these years? Time spent behind the wheels of some of its most intriguing offerings revealed much.

1957 Volvo PV444

By the time the PV444 arrived stateside in 1955, it was already an eight-year-old design with prewar roots. You can tell; witness its two-piece windshield, floor-mounted pedals, and giant art deco steering wheel. Even the gauges’ font makes the 444 feel more like a 1940 Ford De Luxe than the slick chrome monsters Detroit rolled out in the 1950s.

What our 1950s MotorTrend forebears noticed was not the dated styling, but the advanced driving dynamics. They labeled the 444 as the “family sports car.” Its 1.6-liter four-cylinder engine, fed by twin carburetors and backed by a four-speed manual gearbox, produced a mere 85 hp, but back in 1958 we clocked it to 60 mph in 13.5 seconds, 4.4 ticks behind a ’58 Chevrolet with a 280-hp 348 V-8. Not bad for one o’ them furrin’ jobs. 

In the here and now, I found the engine to be noisy but stout, the shifter throws long but surprisingly precise, and the non-assisted steering light and responsive, with a refreshingly quick ratio for a car of this era. Still, “sports car” wasn’t the first label that came to mind; the 444 wandered gently side to side, as if casually sniffing roadside flowers.

All around me were signs of Volvo’s future: The seats were surprisingly supportive and comfortable (though lacking seat belts). And there’s the baked-in longevity: Volvo’s stated design goal was the 11-year car, one that would still look good and work well after more than a decade of service on Sweden’s snowy and oft-unpaved roads. Indeed, the PV444’s slightly improved sibling, the PV544, remained in Volvo dealerships right through the mid 1960s. Although it felt older than its 70 years, the 444 was alluringly charismatic. I wouldn’t want to drive it fast, but I’d gladly drive it far.

1957 Volvo 444 Specifications

• Base price: $2,170
• Body styles: 2-door sedan, 2-door wagon
• Curb weight: 2,140 lb
• Engine: 1.8L I-4, 85 hp, 87 lb-ft

1964 Volvo 122S Amazon

Three-point seat belts! That was the first thing I noticed as I hopped into the colorful Amazon sedan. And oh, what seat belts they are, wide canvas straps with a fiddly latch that hooks onto a giant metal ring in the center of the car, like something you’d use to secure a parachute to a Jeep in the Korean War. This, I suppose, was the beginning of Volvo’s passionate pursuit of safety.

The 122S Amazon arrived in the U.S. in 1960, four years after its European introduction, and its boxy dimensions and shouldered beltline soon became a Volvo hallmark. Driving the 122 sedan, I began to see where the “family sports car” moniker came in. The ride felt firmer and quieter than the 444, the cam-and-roller steering heavier but more precise, and the braking notably sharper. Discs had arrived, if only on the front wheels, with no power assistance and a single-channel system (meaning a leak could wipe out the brakes entirely). The 122S handled curves with more poise than the PV444, but a bit less joy. No stopping to sniff the flowers for this Volvo.

What the Amazon telegraphed most is what it was like to be a Volvo driver. Though not quite a Volkswagen-like departure from glitzy domestic land barges, the 122S provided adequate space with a small shadow, giving it a smug sensibility that perhaps only the smart set could appreciate. Intellectuals, these folks were called in the 1950s, at least to their faces; behind their backs, they were eggheads. They weren’t quite reviled, but reverence for them was held at arm’s length, and you can understand why they’d be attracted to the Volvo Amazon.

1964 Volvo 122S Amazon Specifications

• Base price: $2,530
• Body styles: 2-door sedan, 4-door sedan, 4-door wagon
• Curb weight: 2,195 lb
• Engine: 1.8L I-4, 95 hp, 107 lb-ft

1972 1800E

It’s easy to forget Volvo’s history of sporty two-doors, including the drop-top C70, the GTI-wannabe C30, and the oddball 480. It all started with the 1800E, a car I’ve wanted to drive ever since I first saw its Frua-penned flanks. But the 1800 was a reminder that it’s not always a great idea to meet your heroes. 

The P1800, as it was originally known, came out in 1961, with mechanical bits based largely on the Amazon sedan, and it stayed in Volvo’s lineup for one year past the requisite 11. In a review for our May 1970 issue, Eric Dahlquist, writing with an eloquence of which I am supremely jealous, noted the newly fuel-injected 1800E still felt up to date. He likened the 1800E to “the old Porsche Supers—very deceiving. They really don’t feel too fast, but suddenly everyone is behind you.” 

The valvetrain clatter and the heavy-off-center steering felt disappointingly familiar. I didn’t expect a Ferrari, but neither did I expect something so awkward to drive. With a physique exactly opposite the tall and lanky Swede, I had to slide the seat far forward so I could get the clutch pedal all the way down. My nose was practically pressing against the windshield, while the low-mounted steering wheel was thrust into my gentleman’s area in a matter that really ought to be preceded by a nice dinner and some flowers. 

Still, as I girded my loins and cranked up the speed, I found something I liked—or at least respected—in the way the 1800 tackled corners. The car turned in and took a firm set, and as I sailed through the bends, I found I could make very fine adjustments against the steering’s weight. The ride was compliant, and the clattery old B20 engine pulled with oxlike determination. I was, as Mr. Dahlquist promised, able to make very quick progress—but was the 1800E truly sporty, or did I imagine it to be sporty because it looks so darn good? This is a beautiful car I found challenging to get along with. 

1972 Volvo 1800E Specifications

• Base price: $4,850
• Body styles: 2-door coupe, 2-door wagon
• Curb weight: 2,456 lb
• Engine: 2.0L I-4, 130 hp, 130 lb-ft

1972 Volvo 145E

Enter the brick! The 140 set the pattern for Volvo as we’d know it well into the 21st century, with squared-off styling and an emphasis on safety. Each one of the 140’s six roof pillars could support the car’s weight, leading to memorable ads showing seven 144 sedans stacked on top of one another. Disc brakes spread to all four wheels, with a fancy dual-channel braking system arranged so that a leak could only take out one brake rather than a pair.

I strapped myself in—hey, the seat belts are retractable now! The dash, with its ribbon-style speedo that literally unrolls a red ribbon as you accelerate, had a cool, minimalist 1960s vibe, like the villain’s lair in a James Bond movie. (The 144 made its debut in Sweden in 1966, and this time Americans only had to wait two years to get it.) The addition of headrests notwithstanding, the wide seats reminded me of the comfy chairs in the PV444. When I keyed the ignition, I heard a now-familiar racket: Though fuel injected and punched out to 2.0 liters, this was still the old overhead-valve B-series engine. 

We discern a lot of a car’s character through its steering feel, and that really held true for the 145E. Though still non-assisted and admirably precise, the 145’s steering felt heavier off-center than earlier Volvos, as if to convey that the 145E will go around corners strictly as a matter of necessity. It would rather go straight, because straight is safer. 

The 145E came across as a sensible, no-nonsense tool of transportation, designed by people who loved the freedom cars provide but not the cars themselves. It is an object to be destroyed, a servant willing to sacrifice itself in the interest of safety, and sentimentality for the automobile be damned. For all that, there’s something about the 145E—that nebbish character, that nerdy devotion—that made it one of the most appealing of all these old Volvos.

1972 Volvo 140E Specifications

• Base price: $3,740
• Body styles: 2-door sedan, 4-door sedan, 4-door wagon
• Curb weight: 2,710 lb
• Engine: 2.0L I-4, 120 hp, 115 lb-ft

1982 Volvo GLT

As a child of the 1980s, the 240 wagon (which, for a time in the ’80s, lost its numbers and went by initials) is, for me, the quintessential Volvo. It was the family car for yuppies laser-focused on getting their children to school alive and unscathed. Its quad headlights glare out at the world like an eagle scanning the horizon for danger. Nothing will hurt you today, this Volvo says, not while I’m on the job.

The interior reads like a parody of Swedish sensibility, with a dash finished in yellow plastic so shiny I practically needed sunglasses to drive it. The controls are simple and few, big, chunky, Euro glyphic-emblazoned buttons and dials that engage with a satisfying clonk, thunk, or thwack. The padded steering wheel looks big enough for a first-generation airbag, though the 240 wouldn’t get one until the early ’90s.

Having spent many grim hours behind the wheel of my stepmother’s naturally aspirated GL sedan, I was especially excited to drive the turbocharged GLT. I settled my butt firmly into the orthopedically influenced seat, gripped the chunky steering wheel, nailed the throttle, and ...

Oh, dear. 

The GLT displayed every behavior you expect from a classic turbo car—a dramatic whistle from the blower, a giant boost gauge that swings theatrically to the right—everything, that is, except acceleration. In December 1982, we timed a GLT wagon to 60 mph in 10.4 seconds, and that was with a manual transmission. Factor in this car’s four-speed automatic, and my butt dyno told me we were vrooming with all the verve of a modern-day Nissan Versa. And to think, back in the Malaise Era, this passed for performance! 

Still, the 245 showed other virtues. Its steering, now power-assisted, felt remarkably like that of the 145E, and yet the wide-tired GLT felt like the first classic Volvo I drove as part of this story that was genuinely eager to run down the road, its loping gait aside. Turbo Volvos would not stay slow for long; in little more than a decade’s time, Volvo would build the 850 T-5R, the world’s fastest station wagon. Besides being the quintessential family safetymobile, the 245 GLT was also the root of some of the greatest and most unlikely performance cars ever created. All that said, this one is best enjoyed from the slow lane. 

1982 Volvo GLT Specifications

• Base price: $15,920
• Body styles: 4-door sedan, 4-door wagon
• Curb weight: 3,129 lb
• Engine: 2.1L turbocharged I-4, 127 hp, 150 lb-ft

1990 Volvo 780 Bertone

By the 1980s, several factors—the popularity of Swedish cars with yuppies, America’s enthusiasm for all things European, and Japan’s mastery of the practical family car—had pushed Volvo into a new identity as a luxury brand. The boxy 700-series sedans and wagons were the first luxe-themed Volvos, though their rear-drive, solid-axle chassis was an anachronism at a time when front-wheel drive was all the rage. Still, the 780, designed in partnership with Italy’s Bertone, was a rare merger of Volvo’s sensible sedans and sinewy sport coupes. I may regret saying this to a broad audience, but the 780 Bertone is a car I’ve always wanted to drive.

Unlike the 1800E, the 780 Bertone did not disappoint. The interior, generously slathered with leather and wood, managed to overcome its inherent Swedish sensibility, and the mega-adjustable seats could be the most comfortable things this side of a Tempur-Pedic bed. The stereo—removable to foil thieves!—has more buttons, dials, and sliders than the rest of the dashboard combined, and you know this baby could rock the daylights out of a Phil Collins cassette. Even the engine, a turbocharged B23, had bucked up its ideas, its familial B-series cacophony muted to a mature thrum. 

Like the P1800, the 780 Bertone was penned in Italy, and it might be the least sexy car the Italians ever produced. With its slightly chopped roof and fast rear window, the 780 bore an uncomfortable resemblance to the contemporary Oldsmobile Cutlass Sierra coupe, a frumpymobile synonymous with Geritol and golf pants. But the way it drove would, I think, have pleased any up-and-coming power executive who hadn’t yet ranked a chauffeured Town Car. Not mega-quick, the 780 builds it power quietly and confidently. Its firm steering didn’t exactly feel BMW-like but certainly came from the same continent.

I can’t put my finger on any one thing the 780 did exceptionally well, but I took an immediate liking to it and everything it stands for. Created at a time when status symbols were important, the 780 Bertone feels like an accomplishment—a car for the egghead done good, the programmer who rose to CEO. It’s something you earn, like the gray hair in your sideburns.

1990 Volvo 780 Bertone Specifications

• Base price: $38,975
• Body styles: 2-door coupe
• Curb weight: 3,450 lb (est)
• Engine: 2.3L turbocharged I-4, 188 hp, 206 lb-ft

2005 Volvo XC90

It’s difficult to believe now, but even at the turn of the millennium, it was tough to envision certain carmakers ever building an SUV. Car magazines like ours would publish sketches of SUVs with a marque’s trademark styling cues, and they came across as hard-to-believe curiosities. Volvo was one of those manufacturers, having waited until well into the 21st century to field a sport utility. When the XC90 arrived, it looked a lot like one of those fanciful sketches, with the bold, curvy shapes from the S80 sedan suspended high above the ground.

After a day of driving behind ancient B-series engines, the XC90’s throaty roar came as a complete surprise. This example had the 311-hp, Yamaha-sourced 4.4-liter V-8, which was unexpected from the safety-obsessed, straitlaced Swedes as finding a severed foot in the glove box. We’d grown used to fast Volvos by the early 2000s, but a V-8 in a one? What’s next, dancing?

Nothing I drove all day—not even the 1800 nor the 780—prepared me for the V-8 Volvo’s torquey pull. But once I got over the novelty, I started to see similarities to the wagons I’d driven earlier in the day. Though the XC90 was notably more athletic, its ride was not at all dissimilar, and the steering loaded up in that same now-familiar way. Even the clacking of the turn signal clackers mimicked the old 240. The interior, though greatly modernized, had the same no-nonsense, safety-first feel, and the sparingly applied wood trim reminded me of the 780 Bertone’s subtle approach to luxury. (No removable stereo, though. Shame.) 

What struck me most, however, was that old concept of the 11-year car. Looking at the XC90, I had—and still have—a hard time thinking of it as a 20-year-old classic. It still looks like a thoroughly modern car, and with the stout V-8 under the hood, it sure as hell drives like one. A departure from Volvo tradition? Perhaps, but the roots run deep.

2005 Volvo XC90 Specifications

• Base price: $46,080
• Body style: 4-door SUV
• Curb weight: 4,600 lb (est)
• Engine: 4.4L V-8, 311 hp, 325 lb-ft

2024 Volvo EX90

And now for something completely different. No clatter from the engine, because there is no engine. No buttons that go clonk-thunk-thwack, because there are (almost) no buttons. It’s hard to relate an electric car to any internal combustion car because they differ so fundamentally. A few miles in the smooth silence of the EX90 electric SUV reminded me everyone who worked on the 444—and most of the Volvos I drove on this magical day—has gone off to that great design studio in the sky.

And yet, as I took in the sights, sensations, and sounds (what few there are of the latter) of the newest Volvo to come to the U.S., I felt the brand’s evolution all around me. I found elements of every classic Volvo I had driven: big, supportive seats like the 444; the 122S Amazon’s smug sensibility; the 1800E’s timeless beauty; the 145E’s raw utility; the GLT’s baked-in safety; the 780 Bertone’s understated luxury; the XC90’s raw, torquey power.

Honestly, friends and neighbors, I’m not trying to pluck insignificant details to draw my story to a tidy conclusion. Truth be told, I’d been fretting about how I was going to relate the software-defined wonder that is the EX90 to a bunch of classic old Volvos. I need not have worried: Seventy years after the first PV444 arrived in Long Beach, California, the ghosts of Volvo’s past still actively haunt the brand’s present. Let’s hope they never leave.

2025 Volvo EX90 Specifications

• Base price: $81,290
• Body style: 4-door SUV
• Curb weight: 6,210 lb (est)
• Motors: 2x permanent magnet, 517 hp, 671 lb-ft