riting an autobiography involves revisiting a familiar past. The process may not be as exhilarating as time travel, but it can allow us the distinct opportunity to confront forgotten, as well as latent, versions of ourselves. Armed with the benefit of hindsight, autobiographers can open the doorways to self-awareness. However, a self-written biography cannot resemble the site of an archaeological excavation; the retrieved material cannot be put on display for an overseeing audience without being carefully sifted. Writers must exercise discretion to determine what biographical truths merit mention and what must be withheld.

Unfortunately, a vast majority of formal autobiographies that we now come across have become tools for self-glorification. These accounts are laced with a dull, self-congratulatory tone and suffer from occasional bouts of name-dropping. It is rare to come across an autobiography wherein the portrait of the writer appears life-sized, untainted by feigned ideals of heroism.

Mukhtar Husain’s Foundations and Form: Memoirs of a Pakistani Architect isn’t burdened by the hubris that has hampered most formal autobiographies. On the contrary, the respected architect’s memoir is steered by the humble intention to chronicle the vicissitudes of life as he experienced them, without resorting to excessive self-praise. The author has not restricted his canvas to his own private memories, but has........

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