Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Spelling Smaro Kamoboureli

After reading my last Dobson post, a commenter observed that I'd misspelled Kamboureli. And I guess s/he was right. I'd used two Ls, and the correct spelling uses only one.

But I'm not the only person to have spilled such a hot cup of coffee in his lap.

At Northwest Passages, the biggest CanLit bookseller on the Web, you'll find Robert Kroetsch's wife, Smaro Kambourelli.

Go to the U of Guelph's site and there's ole Kambourelli one more time.

The University of Alberta's conference website. Again, Kambourelli.

And Ryerson's library homepage. Click your way to their Roy Kiyooka page, and there's Pacific Rim Letters edited by "Smaro Kambourelli."

Volume 115, Number 5, December 2000's issue of MLN. Look for the review of "Smaro Kambourelli's" Scandalous Bodies.

Steven Bruhm's President's Message in the March 2007 ACCUTE newsletter? No mention of "Kambourelli." But their conference programme? Yeah, two Ls.

Robert Barsky's website at Required reading for CLT294:"Kambourelli, Smaro (ed.). Making a Difference, Oxford, 1996 (0195410785)."

I'm going to stop now. But, in closing, lists for sale eleven books written by "Smaro Kambourelli." By "Smaro Kamboureli"? Seven.

But one L is right. It's Kamboureli. Ten thousand Google hits can't be wrong.

So, again, Kamboureli is right. Who cares is SFU's library spells it as Kambourelli? It's just not fair that Albert Braz's review of Domenic Beneventi's Adjacencies, a review published in the Spring 2006 edition of Canadian Literature, quotes "Smaro Kambourelli."

All right. That's enough.

I'm going to close this post by quoting some lyrics from Swanee, one of my favourite Al Jolson songs. Why? Because, for some reason, Smaro Kamboureli always makes me think of Jolson. Then Gershwin. Then, sometimes, Anita O'Day. When I read A Mazing Space, I kept waiting for Sportin' Life's next scene:

Swanee - how I love ya, how I love ya
My dear old swanee.
I'd give the world to be among the folks in D-I-X-I-E-ven though my mammy's waiting for me,
praying for me down by the swanee.
The folks up north will see me no more when I get to that swanee shore.

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