Máximo Huerta unveiled his latest novel, 'Mamá está dormida', at a press event in Valencia, drawing attention to the often-overlooked struggles of caring for elderly relatives with memory loss. The author has spent approximately three years in Buñol caring for his mother, and draws on that experience to examine how caregiving weighs on families and what memory reveals about life’s fragility. In an interview with Clarín, Huerta said, “We live in a time of so much Alzheimer’s, and we forget where we come from.”
Published by Planeta, the book is Huerta’s eleventh novel. It is fiction, not a strictly autobiographical account, though its opening premise reportedly echoes an incident in which his mother asked about a brother who never existed. The story follows Aurora and Federico on a camper-van journey through places tied to Aurora’s childhood, combining tenderness and pain with elements of a thriller. As they travel through Spain’s landscapes, family memories, grief and work histories meet the social history that shaped women’s lives. Huerta has linked the older generation in the novel to the legacy of Pilar Primo de Rivera and the Sección Femenina, saying these mothers and grandmothers were “raised to reflect an era.”
Alongside illness and caregiving, the novel brings humor and music into everyday life on Spanish roads and in bars. It also pays tribute to Huerta’s father, who worked as a truck driver. At its emotional center is the gradual loss of a parent’s identity and an adult child’s effort to preserve their shared history. The title holds several meanings, spanning sleep and illness to decline and farewell. Its road-trip structure links private care with childhood memories and changing expectations for women, while drawing attention to caregivers’ isolation as a loved one loses their sense of self.
The pressures described in the novel are reflected in research on family care. A Spanish multicentre study of 196 non-professional caregivers across 19 memory units found impressive caregiver burden in 59.7% of participants. Nearly a third, 31.9%, said they had reduced their working hours or moved to part-time employment to provide care. Women made up 62.8% of the sample; 73.5% lived with the person receiving care, and 68.9% were spouses or partners. The study, reported by Geriatricarea and published in the Journal of Alzheimer’s Disease, also recorded perceived stigma among 39.3% of caregivers. Its findings describe the “invisible work” of continuous supervision and link caregiving pressures with psychological strain, including anxiety and depressive symptoms, as well as hopelessness and reduced social support. The study concerned people with mild cognitive impairment, a distinct research population from dementia patients.
A separate study published in Clínica y Salud examined the emotional effects of family caregiving across several conditions. Of its 182 participants, 104 cared for people with dementia. Another 52 cared for relatives with cancer, while 26 looked after relatives with acute health problems, including stroke. The comparison shows that emotional strain can accompany different forms of prolonged illness and dependency, placing dementia-related caregiving within the wider context of family care.
Caregiving in Spain is also strongly gendered. Figures cited by Zaragoza City Council show that the dependency system had 735,889 recognised family caregivers at the end of 2025. Of those, 72% were women and 24% men. In the Social Security special agreement for non-professional caregivers, women accounted for 93,139 of 107,081 registered people, or 87%, as of 31 August 2026. More than six in ten registrants were over 50. The city council says care responsibilities fall predominantly on women, affecting employment and retirement security as well as the daily distribution of care.
'Mamá está dormida' also reflects on Huerta’s childhood in Buñol and literature as a source of comfort and escape. The book is dedicated to his mother, Clara, who can no longer read it. Its focus on memory and dependency places a private family history within wider debates about how care is shared and supported. The strain on families has also featured in other recent coverage, including this report on the ongoing investigation into the death of a Barcelona worker during a heatwave.
The novel’s publication comes amid growing attention to an ageing population and the demands dementia and other long-term conditions place on families. More than 1.2 million people in Spain live with some form of dementia, information from national statistics cited in the article, and the number is expected to rise. Research documents the practical and emotional pressures on caregivers, from reduced working hours and continuous supervision to stigma and social isolation. By bringing caregiving and memory into a literary narrative, Huerta’s novel adds a family perspective to the debate over support and dignity as Spain ages.
