Exploring the career of Sidney Franklin
The title page of Ivan Moseley’s new publication
As the English aficionado and author Ivan Moseley explains in the introduction to his latest taurine publication, ‘The Corridas of Sidney Franklin’, published by the Club Taurino of London as a pdf, “For any aspiring biographer, Sidney Franklin was his own worst enemy. From the time he became involved in bullfighting (if not before), almost everything he said or wrote was an exaggeration, obfuscation or downright untruth.”
I came across the American’s autobiography, ‘Bullfighter from Brooklyn’, while recuperating in my school’s sickbay, and found it a suitably atmospheric and enthralling adventure story for my teenage mind. It was only later that I became aware of Franklin’s penchant for considerably elaborating the truth.
The true facts of his life story were eventually set out in Bart Paul’s excellent book ‘Double-Edged Sword’, published by the University of Nebraska Press in 2009. These include that he was born on July 11 1903 in New York into the Orthodox Jewish family of Abram and Lubba Frumkin, who had emigrated from Russia to the USA 15 years earlier; that he did not sexually service the entire female population of a Central American Indian village with the approval of the tribe’s males, as ‘Bullfighter from Brooklyn’ asserts, but was homosexual; that he fled to Mexico, aged 19, after being beaten up by his father following a weekend spent away from home with a male friend; that, in addition to assisting Ernest Hemingway as he set about writing ‘Death in the Afternoon’, Franklin accompanied Hemingway as a general fixer and factotum when the author decided to return to Spain to report on the country’s Civil War; and that, in later years, the ex-bullfighter and the ailing writer each belittled the other.
What ‘Double-Edged Sword’ fails to shine much new light on, however, is Franklin’s bullfighting. Glowing accounts of the American’s toreo, based on his autobiography, are reproduced without comment (Paul makes no claim to being an aficionado). Although there is mention of a list of Franklin’s appearances having been compiled by John Fulton and Tony Brand, the book lacks such an appendix. Ivan Moseley sought this information from Paul without success, so set about doing his own research; ‘The Corridas of Sidney Franklin’ is the result.
In terms of numbers of appearances, what Moseley’s research reveals is that, in the six years from 1922 (when he was 19) to 1928, Franklin appeared in just 10-20 novilladas in Mexico; in 1929, he enjoyed a half-season of 14 novilladas in Spain, appearing in a number of important bullrings (Cossío’s ‘Los Toros’ agrees with this figure, whereas Franklin, in his autobiography, claimed no less than 58 appearances that season!); in 1930, a serious cornada in the backside at Madrid in March, in only his second novillada of the season, caused a 7-week gap until his next appearance at Jerez de la Frontera - he had just six further appearances in Spain that year; back in Mexico, from the end of 1930 until 1936, he appeared in a handful of novilladas; “he took the alternativa in Madrid in 1945 at the end of World War II, and thereafter participated, over almost 15 years […] in about a dozen corridas in Spain, Tangiers and Mexico. He personally organised a number of these.”
But ‘The Corridas of Sidney Franklin’ is far more than an enumeration of the Brooklyn bullfighter’s appearances, for Moseley has also unearthed a number of accounts of Franklin’s performances. Although one has to be mindful of Spanish prejudices about foreign-born toreros, and also that bribing critics for positive write-ups was a common practice in those days, this enables the reader to come to a view as to the quality of Franklin’s toreo. Ernest Hemingway, after all, with his experience of watching corridas, commented in an afterword to ‘Death in the Afternoon’: “Franklin is brave with a cold, serene, and intelligent valour […] he is one of the most skilful, graceful and slow manipulators of a cape fighting today […] his verónicas are classical, very emotional and beautifully timed and executed […] Franklin manages the muleta well with his right hand but uses his left hand far too little. He kills easily and well […] He is a better, more scientific, more intelligent, and more finished matador than all but six of the full matadors in Spain today.” This at a time of Luis Freg, Cayetano Ordóñez, Gitanillo de Triana, Vicente Barrera, Cagancho, Nicanor Villalta, Chicuelo, Félix Rodríguez, Marcial Lalanda and others. Was this just an example of hyperbole in relation to a fellow American and someone who had been of great assistance in compiling the book?
Writing of Franklin’s 1929 season, Hemingway says, “ He had great and legitimate artistic triumphs in Sevilla, Madrid and San Sebastián before the élite of the aficionados, as well as triumphs in Cádiz, Ceuta and other towns in the provinces. He filled the Madrid ring so there was not a ticket to be had three times running, the first time as an American and a novelty everyone was curious to see after his great success in Sevilla, but the next two on his merits as a bullfighter.”
The reports in ‘The Corridas of Sidney Franklin’ bear this record out to some extent. Following his Spanish debut at Sevilla on June 9, he was indeed, it seems, carried from the ring on shoulders despite no award of ears being mentioned. Barcelona’s La Fiesta Brava magazine reported: “The public, prepared to laugh at the American, were unexpectedly and pleasantly disappointed to find themselves in the presence of a torero going easily through the appropriate motions. He gave admirable verónicas, performed well with the muleta [another critics disagreed, saying his muletazos were “confused” and “so-so”] and killed with facility, aided by his gallant height, entering with decision and bravery. His quite de la mariposa was arrogant, letting the horns come close to his chest. He left on shoulders through the Puerta del Príncipe.”
Sidney Franklin killing a sizable novillo on his Sevilla début
Of his repeat performance in La Maestranza three weeks later, Franklin wrote, “The fight that Sunday was practically a repetition of my début ... Each fight was better than the previous one. I was given the ears and tail of every bull I killed.” La Nación was almost as succinct but told a different story: “Sidney Franklin … who raised expectations, and attracted people back to the plaza de toros, disappointed them, failing to confirm the success of his début. He was caught by his first, losing his confidence and killing badly. He was caught again while caping his second, retiring groggily to the infirmary, where he was found to have only grazes and contusions. He returned as Pineda was preparing to kill his bull, taking the sword and muleta and despatching the animal with two pinchazos and an estocada.” His third Sevilla appearance in July was no better, La Fiesta Brava stating that, “The overall impression, rather than serious, was mirthful and a bit clownish,” while the Catholic daily El Siglo Futuro commented, “Franklin was generally lacklustre, but confirmed his exceptional talent for toreo cómico.”
However, the impact of his debut performance in Sevilla meant he was signed to appear in other important plazas. At San Sebastián, appearing alongside matadors Marcial Lalanda, Cagancho, Heriberto García and Manolo Bienvenida in a corrida mixta, the American novillero impressed once again, two reports saying he left on shoulders. On July 25, Franklin made his Madrid debut, showed well with the capote and was praised for his bravery, returning to the fray after a number of cogidas. He took a vuelta after killing his first novillo and was carried round the ring on shoulders after his second. He was back in Madrid on August 15 (four days after receiving an injury at Lisbon), was given a vuelta after his first bull, but left a weaker impression, particularly after his second, more difficult, animal. Carlos Revenga Chavito, the critic of La Nación, commented: “If his first performance was an apotheosis, yesterday’s was almost a disaster. Franklin gave some good passes and, as he thinks he’s got the public in the palm of his hand, started to clown a bit, when the crowd’s whistles showed him that straying into the realm of the toreros cómicos doesn’t go down well. Sidney can and should be serious—as we said in the past—and give up these gestures, which would doubtless be cheered where he comes from, but not here […] It was only with the sword that Sidney showed skill and a desire to progress. Yesterday the boy from skyscraper-land lost a lot of ground. Moreover, he showed us what his toreo consists of: his passes are preconceived and rushed; he is sending the bull away before waiting for it to come to him.”
A verónica from Franklin in Cadiz’s bullring
At Cádiz 10 days later, reports of Franklin’s performances were mixed, similarly in Santander on August 30, when La Voz claimed that “Sidney Franklin was quite simply bad, seeming to have no idea of what it means to torear. He sent his novillos to meet their maker without evidencing art or style.” On the other hand, the syndicated review printed in both El Heraldo de Madrid and El Liberal stated that the American gave a confident faena to his first novillo, and with the second, his “verónicas were applauded. His work with the muleta was relaxed” before killing with an off-centre media estocada. At Ceuta on September 1, one paper and the United Press communique said Franklin cut an ear, while another two papers reported that two ears and a tail had been given.
A week later, Franklin was back in Madrid and received generally positive comments on his performances with two novillos of Bernaldo de Quirós, El Liberal commenting, “Previously he triumphed with the cape and the sword but with the muleta he was inept. However, last Sunday things were different […] Franklin produced an elaborate faena, with series including molinetes, afarolados, passing the muleta behind his back, etc., etc., their picturesque character giving colour to the whole.” Recorte in La Libertad concluded, “There is no doubt that the American has learnt a lot in a short time.” Pepe Medina, writing in La Fiesta Brava, was also complimentary: “Today’s main course was served up by Franklin, who had a great success. He was why the ring was full and he was why the punters went home happy. He showed that he is fast becoming a serious torero.”
A half-kneeling chest pass at Valencia
In Bilbao, Sidney was out of luck with the sword, but in his final appearance of the temporada, at Valencia on October 20, he impressed once again. The critic of the local taurine magazine La Reclam Taurina enthused, “Franklin made a welcome impression and we expect to see him several times over the next season. He brings people to the ring, and can compete with our current novilleros.”
But 1930 didn’t turn out like that. Sidney’s campaign began in Valencia on March 10, when he fought four tricky novillos due to injuries to his cartel companions and did badly. Then, in his next novillada in Madrid, he received a serious cornada in the rectum, a wound that continued to give him trouble for several years afterwards. Further contracts followed at Jerez de la Frontera, Ceuta, Zaragoza, Algeciras, Andújar, Madrid - where he came in as a substitute for an injured novillero - and Calahorra, with reasonably good results despite Franklin later describing this period as “shuttling between sanatorium and bullrings”.
Perhaps Don Nino, writing in El Heraldo de Madrid, best summarised the position Sydney was now in: “Franklin works the bulls well, better indeed than many who profess to be good toreros. But what happens with this boy from Yankeelandia is that he lacks grace and his unusual height also works against him. He controls the speed of the bull with the cape, dominating the animal. But as he lacks ‘alegría’ there is no emotion and the result is counterproductive; his marvellous technical facility, paradoxically, is prejudicial […] now that he’s come back doing the same things as before, any sense of novelty is lacking, and the public view what he does more carefully, and repudiate what seems colourless and bereft of emotion.” Calahorra was to be his last appearance in Spain for 15 years.
According to Hemingway, despite a problem with his left arm, Franklin did travel to Spain in 1931 in the hope of continuing his career there, but “he came to Spain from Mexico with plenty of money from his winter campaign and more desire to enjoy life than to start in fighting at once […] and as soon as he had decided that he was ready to fight, the management took their revenge by the typically Spanish method of putting him off on one pretext or another until they had all their dates contracted for.” The ‘desire to enjoy life’ had apparently cost him his temporada.
Although he continued to appear off and on in Mexico over the next few years and returned to Spain in 1945 to take the alternativa in Madrid’s Las Ventas on July 18 in a charity corrida for the fascist Frente de Juventudes, Sidney’s serious attempt to establish himself as a torero was effectively over, with just the occasional corrida thereafter. It was a shame how it ended, for the evidence of his 1929 and 1930 seasons indicates that Hemingway’s comments in the ‘Death in the Afternoon’ afterword were not that far off the mark. Franklin was a promising novillero, and, with more application and opportunities, could have progressed and taken the alternativa sooner. As Ivan Moseley summarises: “By documenting what [Franklin] actually did, [I] show how remarkable his achievement was. With very little formal training, he appeared — over a relatively short time — in some of the most important bullrings of several countries, with variable degrees of success, but on occasion eliciting genuine praise from experts who might otherwise have regarded him solely as an upstart, singlemindedly self-promoting foreigner.”
Non-members of the Club Taurino of London can obtain a copy of ‘The Corridas of Sydney Franklin’ pdf by emailing Ivan Moseley at moseleyivan@gmail.com.