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goldentortoisebeetle's review against another edition
This was a decent children's book, but it only tells the very very beginning of Augusta's story. I'd like a children's book to cover more of her life. They have a write up at the end, but it feels more geared towards parents. The illustrations are deeply lovely. Also a white guy wrote this. You can tell. The AAVE is weird.
melaniegaum's review against another edition
5.0
Sculpture is my favorite art form, so I was happy to learn about a female sculptor I was not familiar with.
debnanceatreaderbuzz's review
4.0
Augusta Savage, even as a young girl, loved to play with clay, to shape figures from it. Her father, a preacher, disapproved and punished Augusta when he caught her. When the family moved, she was happy to discover a potter who shared his clay with her and encouraged her work. A teacher at her school suggested she go to New York and there she was admitted to a prestigious school where she learned to sculpt.
In Her Hands tells Augusta’s story, in little scenes with her parents and teachers. An author’s note at the end tells more of Augusta’s story and provides photographs of two of her most famous sculptures.
From the book:
‘”Tell me, Miss Savage---what do you know?”
Augusta was confused. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, I think you do.” Mr. Borglum smiled. “What matters most to you? When you think about your life, what comes to mind?”
Augusta had never been asked that kind
of question before. She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. Green Cove Springs---that was what she cared about. The place where she’d grown up, with its clay pits and its smelly
sulphur springs, and the school she’d gone to, and all the kids she used to play with---Maisie and Margaret and Pee-wee….’
In Her Hands tells Augusta’s story, in little scenes with her parents and teachers. An author’s note at the end tells more of Augusta’s story and provides photographs of two of her most famous sculptures.
From the book:
‘”Tell me, Miss Savage---what do you know?”
Augusta was confused. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, I think you do.” Mr. Borglum smiled. “What matters most to you? When you think about your life, what comes to mind?”
Augusta had never been asked that kind
of question before. She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. Green Cove Springs---that was what she cared about. The place where she’d grown up, with its clay pits and its smelly
sulphur springs, and the school she’d gone to, and all the kids she used to play with---Maisie and Margaret and Pee-wee….’
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