Elena Knows by Claudia Piñeiro | Book Review (Read Around the World-Aregntina)

“You only know something once you’ve experienced it in your life, life is our greatest test.”

Elena Knows is not a mystery in the traditional sense. It begins with a death—Elena’s daughter, Rita, is found hanging in a church bell tower. The authorities rule it a suicide, but Elena refuses to believe it. Her unshakeable conviction that Rita’s faith would never allow such an act drives her on a quest for answers. Yet, this is not a straightforward "whodunit". Claudia Piñeiro delivers a much deeper story about love, control, the constraints placed on women’s lives, choice, motherhood, caretakers and so much more. I was actually surprised by how much Piñeiro was able to effectively fit in such a slim novel.

Elena suffers from Parkinson’s disease, and the book captures her struggles in excruciating detail. Every movement is a battle, every action a negotiation with her illness. This physical struggle mirrors her emotional journey, as she revisits the relationships and choices that shaped her and her daughter’s lives.

Elena’s search for the truth about her daughter leads her to Isabel, a woman from her past whose story profoundly contrasts with her own. Isabel’s life defied social norms, and her choices challenge Elena’s rigid beliefs. In their meeting, truths about Rita, and even about Elena herself, come to light. The confrontation is devastating, forcing Elena to confront the idea that perhaps she didn’t know Rita as well as she thought. I wont lie, I wasn't completely invested in the book until this confrontation. For such a short novel with a strong element of suspense/mystery, it moved slower than expected and I wasn't as engaged as I thought I would be.

Piñeiro’s writing is sharp and unflinching. There’s no sugarcoating of Elena’s flaws, no sentimental gloss over her complicated relationship with Rita. Elena is controlling, judgmental, and yet deeply human—a mother who loved her daughter in the only way she knew how, even when that love hurt more often than it helped. The book captures her struggles in vivid detail—how her body stiffens, how even standing up or walking a short distance is a battle. But beyond the physical pain, there’s another, quieter suffering at play. The kind that comes from needing someone else to take care of you, to witness your slow decline. And, perhaps just as painfully, the kind that comes from being that caretaker.

Rita was that person. She bathed Elena, fed her, helped her move, and carried the weight of her mother’s illness in ways that extended far beyond the physical. The novel doesn’t shy away from showing the resentment that can build between a sick parent and a child forced into the role of caretaker. It explores the suffocation of obligation—the way Rita was bound to Elena by a sense of duty, and Elena, despite being the one who needed care, wielded control over Rita in her own way. I thought about this a lot after finishing the book-the toll that taking care of a patient, and more particularly a parent, can have on the caretaker. And the toll that being taken care of in such a way can have on the patient as well. It's a difficult situation, to say the least. I think the author did a good job of exploring the burden of care—both giving it and receiving it. It makes you think about the ways in which illness and dependence reshape relationships, and about how love and obligation can blur into something suffocating. It is a novel that will leave you to sit with the unsettling question of how much care can cost a person—and whether love alone is ever enough to balance that weight.

The novel tackles several other themes with incredible precision. It looks into motherhood, exploring how love can become control and how expectations can stifle individuality. It examines bodily autonomy, not just through Isabel’s defiance of societal norms, but through Elena’s own struggle with an illness that robs her of control over her body. Religion is another key thread, with its hypocrisies and its power to dictate lives, particularly women’s lives.

Perhaps the most striking theme is the search for truth—not just about Rita’s death, but about who she was as a person. Elena’s journey forces her to confront the uncomfortable reality that understanding someone, even someone you love, is never simple.

Elena Knows is a slim novel, but its impact is enormous. Claudia Piñeiro’s storytelling is intimate and unrelenting, pulling you into Elena’s world with all its physical pain, moral conflict, and emotional weight. It’s a book that challenges you to think about love, loss, and the choices that define us. And long after you’ve finished, it leaves you questioning how much you can ever truly know about the people closest to you.