Caroline Darian is the daughter of Gisèle Pelicot, a woman who was at the centre of a mass rape trial in Avignon, France, last year. (Olivier Roller)
|
Neubauer Artists LLC Getting your Trinity Audio player ready... |
In new memoir, Caroline Darian shares what the investigation and high profile trial was like for her family
WARNING: This article may affect those who have experienced sexual violence or know someone affected by it.
The explosive mass rape trial of Dominique Pelicot and 50 other men in Avignon, France, may have come to an end Dec. 19, but for his daughter, Caroline Darian, the story was nowhere near over.
That trial ended with Dominique Pelicot found guilty of repeatedly drugging and raping his then-wife, Gisèle Pelicot, over the course of a decade, as well as inviting other men to do so while he filmed the abuse. Fifty other men, most accused of raping her while she was unconscious, were also found guilty.
During the trial, Dominique Pelicot was convicted of taking and sharing intimate photos of his daughter without her consent
Earlier this month, Darian filed a legal complaint against Dominique accusing him of drugging and sexually abusing her, allegations he denies.
Since her mother’s abuse was discovered in 2020, Darian has dedicated herself to raising awareness of chemical submission, a term used in France to describe plying others with psychoactive drugs for criminal purposes. Darian’s association and social media campaign, M’endorpas: Stop Soumission Chimique, translates to “Don’t fall asleep: Stop chemical submission.”
Darian, 46, shares what the ordeal has been like for her mother and herself in a new memoir, I’ll Never Call Him Dad Again.
She spoke to Piya Chattopadhyay, host of CBC Radio’s The Sunday Magazine, in New York this week. Here is part of their conversation.
The last number of years have been tremendously difficult for you and your family. I’m just wondering, how are you holding up?
That’s a good question. You know, I’m going because I’m fighting. Because I’m engaged with this cause against chemical submission. And now it’s become a part of my new normal life. So I was going to say I’m fine. I’m fine, but sometimes it’s still difficult.
By now, many people know your mother’s story, but today we’re actually going to be talking about your story, which begins in a suburb near Paris where you grow up with your mum, your dad, your two brothers, David and Florian, in the 1980s and ’90s. What was family life like?
We were a happy and a united family. I was pretty close [with] my father, my mother, my two brothers. We have so beautiful and fun and funny memories. I mean, we had a good childhood. I think we were really, really privileged … because our house was always full of people, full of festive moments.
And even if sometimes it wasn’t easy, of course, because life is not easy, we really thought that we were happy.
What was your relationship specifically with your father like when you were young?
He was my confidante. He gave me a lot of things when I was a child. He was there for me. He [taught] me to swim, to cycle. He was there for encouraging me during my studies. So we had a close relationship, like daughter and father, and where I used to talk to him about a lot of things…. It was a really precious relationship with my father, and I lost it.
As time goes on, you and your brothers, all adults now, are noticing your mom beginning to experience things like memory loss, fatigue, unexplained gynecological problems. What are you and your family thinking is happening at that time?
The first symptoms started back in 2013, 2014. We noticed that she started to [lose] weight. She was often tired. Sometimes we got some phone calls with her and she had some incoherence. Around 2016, we asked her to go to [the doctor] because we were afraid that she was developing a kind of mental disease, like dementia, like Alzheimer’s or something like that. So she started to see some doctors, and doing some exams, and they never found anything.
In 2020, everything you thought you knew was shattered. Your father was caught filming up women’s skirts in a local supermarket. That led police to thousands of photos and videos of your mother. She was drugged, unconscious, and being raped by him and scores of other men. When you first heard about it, those first moments, what was going through your head?
I was in shock and it was like everything inside of me fell down. It was like all my own worlds collapsed, all my foundation. Because I realized, through this phone call, in a few seconds, my life would never be the same. I had to realize that I didn’t know my own father.
You write that there was this resurgence of these fond memories and you write, “it makes me feel like I’m being waterboarded by the past.” What did you mean by that?
I wanted to look at all of these childhood memories differently … to me it was authentical moments. It was real moments of love or sharing, but probably not for him, not for my father. I’m not able to call him that. My dad is dead, even if he’s still alive.
You go on to write “I fear that I’ll never be able to hate him.” How have you worked through these complex, these complicated feelings?
During the very beginning of this trial, I saw him, and for few seconds … I looked at him as my dad. And then I stopped. It’s a mental process, because I needed to get some answers. I needed to get the truth. Before this trial, there was more than two years and a half [of] investigation. So we discovered so many things, [such] terrible things that when I looked at him in this court, I looked at the criminal.
What was it like for you in that courtroom, Caroline, hearing about the awful things that he had done to your mother?
It’s started to help me with my mourning process. I felt so angry. What a damage within our own family.… When you had to listen every day [for] four months, all of these things, it hurts.
Watching my mom, yeah. Supporting my mom. We were really proud of her…. And even if we’re all still in pain, what she did shows an extraordinary woman.
We’ve all heard of your mom, but they also found two deleted images of you in your 30s asleep in a bed. The lights are on. The covers are pulled back. You’re wearing a top and underwear. The police call you and say, we want to show you these two photos. I can’t imagine what that moment is like for you.
It’s unbearable. For some few seconds, few minutes, I don’t even recognize me. This is what we call a dissociation phase where you are in a post-traumatic situation.
He was convicted on charges of taking and sharing intimate photos of you without your permission. But you believe those photos provide evidence of further crimes. What do you believe happened?
Very serious things, which are similar [to] what my mom went through…. I know that he drugged me. And he probably touched me, probably raped me. But, you know, I don’t have the proof like my mom has.
You have no memory of this.
No, like my mom.
You confronted your father at the trial. He denied drugging you and sexually touching you. He still denies that today.
I said, ‘I know what you did.’ And he said, ‘I didn’t do anything, Caroline.’
You yell at him at the end of the trial. I think you yelled, “You’re lying! You don’t have the courage to tell the truth.”
It was really difficult to yell at him, to say that within this court, when you are not allowed to say anything…. But it was the only time that I had the opportunity to tell what I had in my heart to my father. It was the very last time, because I will never see him again.
You have filed a formal legal complaint against your father, accusing him of drugging and sexually abusing you. He has always denied this and he continues to. His lawyer has noted that the prosecutor in the previous trial said there’s not enough “objective elements” to prosecute. So as I understand it, the police will investigate. Prosecutors will decide whether to proceed to trial.
And I hope so. You know, when you are desperately looking for the truth, for your own restoration, for your own reparation, to be able to go on with your normal life — because you know when you have some deep conviction but you are the only one who’s yelling it, telling it, but no one hears you, no one believes you — it’s so hard. And I have a chance. My brothers believe me, my husband believes me, my friends, but the justice [system] doesn’t believe me now because there’s not enough evidence.
So I [have] now with this new complaint to the French justice to please reopen up this case and go to get further investigation because they were overwhelmed with this file because they were focusing on Gisèle, and that’s OK. But please do not forget any other potential victim within this family.
Source: CBC
ETA Card on Emmanuel Macron & Kushner Payments
Brought to you by BBVA
About The Author
