Composure. A sense of time's inevitable march. A belief that, deep down, the universe is spinning toward a punch line. These characteristics mark the automotive writer, I thought, as the taillights of the departing Jaguar XK8 reflected in the shiny new Suzuki Esteem that would be the next week's ride.

That's the challenge, really; to refrain from judging each by the other's standards. (Although the idea of a comparison test kept pestering us for weeks afterward.)

At first, the cosmic jest of going from the Volkswagen New Beetle to a Cadillac Seville STS seemed to call for the same flexibility of soul. What could they possibly have in common?

More, it turns out, than we expected. Make no mistake, there's about as much mechanical, technological, or philosophical common ground between the Beetle and the STS as between the Beetle and a Lear 35. The Beetle is about fun and the persistence of memory, while the Caddy is dedicated to relentlessly -- and comfortably -- converting time into distance.

The common thread, though, is that people react strongly to both cars. The STS, despite its low-key exterior, seemed to elicit the same pride in US-make aficionados that the Beetle did among the VW crowd. To be sure, it's a very different -- and narrower -- demographic, skewed a tad older and heavier, but throughout our week with the STS it consistently received the kind of looks that the Beetle had drawn. The gentleman who got out of his Town Car to examine admiringly the front of the STS. The prospective Cadillac buyer who just went ballistic about its looks, appointments and performance. The known Cadillac lover (and owner of an '80s high-bustle Seville) who -- though thinking the STS a bit small, admired Cadillac for just what we'd heard from the Volkswagen fans: Modernizing while keeping the faith.

At first impression, the modernization isn't that obvious. Styling differences between the new STS and its predecessor are subtle, and one can be forgiven for confusing the two at a range of over ten yards.

The conservative exterior redo for 1998 belies an almost-all-new car, explicitly designed to increase European demand for the Seville. That begins with its five meter length, required to meet some European regulations. It shows, too, in reduced exterior gimcrackery. Nonetheless, the STS won't be confused with a Mercedes, BMW, or Volvo, and that's also by design. Many Europeans like American cars that "look American," with a certain heft and authority. The STS still looks quite American enough to attract that crowd.

The STS' styling is broad shouldered and manly, if a bit boxy. In a switch from typical practice, four rear exhaust pipes are arranged in pairs and styled to look like two large ones. It rides on handsome seven-spoke alloy wheels, and carries itself with an energetic stance one doesn't necessarily expect from a Cadillac.

Inside, too, the STS is a surprise, both with its driver orientation and an array of technology that would befit the aforementioned Lear 35. Sure, there's the dash-mounted mini-disc player and six-disc CD changer in the center console. And the Bose radio has automatic volume control. But that's just the beginning.

Seats are an STS signature item. Our test STS featured adaptive seats, exclusive to the Seville, that adjust themselves to the contours of your body and your seating position. They provide both comfort and a bit of eerie entertainment as you feel the seat, unbidden, adjusting in the middle of your back and narrowing the wings of the seat to your body. Both the seat bottom and the lower seat back are perforated; their firmness befits a Euro-style car.

The seat is also home to the STS' seat belt adjuster, carried in the headrest mount. Move one (power, natch) and you move them both, maintaining a better relationship between the car and you. That's pretty keen.

A hacker's delight, you can program a number of features on the STS. Does the seat adjust to help you exit the car? Does the steering wheel adjust to help you? Do the lights flash when you unlock it? When you lock it, does the horn sound? Do the exterior lights come on? Does the door automatically lock when you put it in gear? Unlock when you put it in park? Unlock when you turn the key off? All the doors, or just the driver door? Does the side mirror turn down to show you the curb when reversing? Does the remote trigger all these functions? Does inserting the key trigger all these functions? All those things can be set for each driver.

In front of you, instruments appear to float in midair, thanks to a really neat electroluminescent instrument panel. It incorporates a multi-segment display like the Corvette, with various little messages and readouts for the trip computer. All of this is wrapped up in black panel technology, which lets you shut off illumination to nonessential gauges when driving at night. Night comfort is aided by very muted ancillary switch lighting, resulting in few distractions for the driver.

Even ergonomic technology takes a bow. The STS has the best cruise control we've seen on a GM car. It's a separate paddle, low on the right side, with a cancel function.

HomeLink? Sure, right up next to the electrophotocromic rear-view mirror with inset compass. A rotary knob dims the instrument readouts when the headlights are on; the rest of the time it doesn't do anything, which is a pretty sweet deal if you're a knob. Twilight Sentinel? Yes. Automatic headlights? Uh-huh. (And, if you have the automatic light feature switched off, it'll suggest when they should be on.)

Over the mirror, a slider switch -- off-auto-on -- for the three map lights; one aimed at the driver, one aimed straight down, one aimed at the passenger, very discrete, with separate buttons and inset deeply into the overhead. Then you have two switches for the sunroof, one tilts, one slides. (Why two? Why not combine it into one?)

In keeping, perhaps, with the European theme, there are no cupholders in the Seville. The STS' steering wheel has wood inserts top and bottom; it's Zebrano wood, whatever that means. The trunk, deep fore and aft and wide, seems capacious enough for, say, twenty zillion sets of golf clubs.
 

ON THE ROAD

The STS retains the traditional character of a Cadillac, which is to say it's large and quite powerful. This one, though, is solid without being stolid. One can see why they consider it to be a sporting model as opposed to their larger cars, but you won't confuse it with a BMW.

Should you make that mistake, more technology helps keep you on the road. Cadillac calls it StabiliTrak, but at base it combines yaw sensing with steering angle input, and applies front brakes as needed to avoid skids.

The Seville STS, with its quiet and its comfort, falls into the category of cars that is possible to drive far too fast. Part of that, too, is the automatic volume control on the Bose radio; by maintaining the relationship between radio volume and (barely evident) background noise regardless of speed, there are very few cues to actual velocity apart from the asphalt rapidly shrinking in front of you. The digital signal processor also works to give you a variety of spatial effects. And the adaptive seats just inflated the bottom lumbar to meet my back. Mmm.

The long-sidewall Goodyears yield a nice smooth ride, but also take the edge off its handling. In competitive cars, one gets the sense that the car is tautly suspended above its wheels. The Seville seems to settle down into its wheels; it carries its weight low, and you clearly sense that there's quite a bit of weight.

That's not a problem, though, because perhaps the most remarkable bit of technology lies under the hood: Cadillac's unreservedly wonderful 300-hp, 32-valve Northstar V-8 accelerates the STS without drama, without fuss, without relent. (The EPA says mileage comes in between 17 and 26; we saw similar.)

When the road turns, Cadillac has done commendably in giving you some feel of the road, although the steering is still behind its competitors. There is a good contact patch, but still too much undamped body motion to call this truly a competitor for the European touring cars. Of course, because this is designed to be sold in Europe as an American car, they didn't want to necessarily imitate the European character; the point is to have an American-style car that's acceptable to Europeans.

Enroute to battle with the Europeans, though, the STS proves more than a match for the Lexi and high-end Acuras; it has similar luxury and performance, with more spirit.
 

SUMMING UP

To a certain extent, the STS suffers from the same sort of schizophrenia as the Catera, but this is a much more successful integration of the interests of drivers and the traditional Cadillac buyer.

Does it match up with the European competition? If you think of the competition as say the Mercedes E-class, maybe. The STS is certainly warmer, more accessible than the Mercedes; it will appeal to a different personality type.

If you think of the European competition as a slightly more performance oriented car like BMW or Audi, well, no, not in the same way.

But those may not be proper comparisons. The Seville STS is, in the final analysis, an unmistakably American car. So what's not to cheer?
 
 

Price as tested includes power moon roof,1550; wood package on the steering wheel and shift knob, 495; Goodyear Eagle LS 235/60 ZR 16 tires, 250; Bose high performance radio, 300; in-console six CD changer, 500; adaptive seat package, 1202; delivery, 665.