The family’s “chamber of fears,” as Caroline Darian puts it, appeared out of the blue on Monday, November 2, 2020. It was the middle of France’s Covid crisis, and Darian had just taken her six-year-old son back to school wearing a mandatory face mask. His father, Dominique Pélicot, sent his grandson a reassuring message online: “My poor son. Be brave. With love, Grandpa.” But just a few hours later, the phone rang. It was Darian’s mother: “Your father is going to prison.”
And just like that, Darian’s boring but successful world—“husband, son, home, work I loved”—was turned upside down. His father was accused of drugging Darian’s mother and his wife of 50 years—a woman he met as a lover when they were both 18—and of inviting dozens of men to rape her over at least a decade. Suddenly, the Pélicot family was at the epicenter of a deeply disturbing case that has now come to court and has outraged France and the world beyond. As Darian would later write, “You don’t appreciate boringness until you lose it.” Instead, he was left with a “family disaster.”
According to Darian’s memoirs, the details of that 2020 phone call that changed everything were as follows: And I Stopped Calling You Dadalmost unacceptably bleak. The book changes some of the names [Dominique becomes Louis for example] But it does explain how the case unfolded that her mother (Gisèle Pélicot in real life) called from her home in the small town of Mazan, 20 miles northeast of Avignon in southern France, that day in 2020 to say that her husband, then 67, had been caught red-handed filming up the skirts of three women in a supermarket and had been locked up for 48 hours. In the meantime, police seized her husband’s phone, video camera and computer. There, they found footage that allegedly showed Gisèle, then 67, sleeping, drugged and being raped. After combing through nearly 20,000 digital images, police counted 92 rapes committed by 72 men, 51 of whom were officially identified.
“Caro, you’re right,” Gisèle had told her astonished daughter. “I had to look at some photos at the police station. I thought my heart was going to stop.” Until then, neither woman had the slightest idea. It turned out that Dominique had given his wife date-rape drugs to incapacitate her. And she wasn’t the only one, it is alleged. Caroline Darian was devastated in court yesterday when she heard that among her father’s trove of photos were photos of his daughter as an adult, from the front and back, in her underwear, which he had compared with similar photos of his wife and shared with others.
When Caroline called her two siblings, they were equally stunned. But then one remembered the last dinner she had with her family during the summer vacation of 2018. “Just a few minutes after we sat down, Maman was swaying in her chair as if she was drunk,” she is quoted as saying. “Suddenly her whole body was drained of energy, like a rag doll.”
“Okay. I’d better get him to bed,” his father said at the time. But Darian added, “In reality, the cocktail of drugs in his rosé wine was starting to take effect.”
After being informed of their father’s actions four years ago, the three siblings raced south to help their mother. In Avignon, they met with the investigating police team. Police officers revealed that their father had not only given permission but had also hired dozens of men on web forums to rape their mother “without any financial gain”.
“It’s extremely perverse,” Caroline writes. “My father, who always had money problems, didn’t profit from Maman. He did it entirely for his own pleasure.” The drugs were hidden—in the garage, in his walking shoes, in his gym socks. Did he show any remorse after confessing? “No. Your father just thanked me for relieving him of a burden,” the officer replied.
The photographs revealed the extent of the horror. Caroline’s father apparently lived a double life, taking Viagra and testing himself for HIV; he sometimes wrote that he forbade the men he invited to rape his wife to wear condoms. In one photograph, Caroline’s mother is naked, on her stomach, with a man behind her. “The other pictures are all the same – just with different men,” she says. As Caroline and her siblings left the police station, she turned to the officer in charge. “Tell my father I will never forgive him, and that he has ruined our lives.”
But more was to come. She was called back shortly after leaving the police station. The police needed to check two photographs with her. They were of a young woman lying on her left side, wearing beige knickers, in bed. “It was zoomed in on her bottom.” It was only when the police pointed out a birthmark that Caroline identified herself. “I’m normally a light sleeper. So I was drugged too.” It turned out that the second photograph had been taken in her own home. “I was her second prey.”
That night in November 2020, the three siblings had to return to their parents’ house with their mother and clean it. “It was unbearable to come back home to the stench of her.” The empty space on their father’s desk where his confiscated computer had been was visible.
By the end of the week her mother had gone to live with one of her siblings and Caroline had a breakdown and was briefly admitted to psychiatric care. According to her book, the last time her mother was raped was just two weeks ago, on October 22. When she returned home, she had to explain the disgusting situation to her young son as best she could, knowing that the details of the incident had emerged.
The family began to fall apart. According to the book, Caroline’s mother, who was an unconscious victim and had no memory of the abuse, instinctively sympathized with her husband. “He’s not happy where he is, you know. He’s suffering,” she told her bewildered daughter. This drove Caroline to despair: “Because of my father, now I’m losing my mother too…”
Caroline says her father managed to deliver a letter to her mother from prison. “I know I’m here because of what I did to the love of my life, to my family, to my friends,” he said. Caroline describes it as a letter from a master manipulator. “I’m not surprised. He’s trying to divide us.”
As the family lawyer began to take evidence in the months that followed, details began to emerge of her father allegedly bragging online about the strength of the drugs and how he adjusted the dosage, quoting one message: “Last time it didn’t work; this time it’s okay, we can try.” His approach, her daughter says, was always the same: first he would reach out to potential abusers in an internet chat room, then ask those chosen if they were interested in “rape methods” like his, and then post photos of his wife “without their knowledge” on a private forum.
“He dressed her up like a cheap whore,” her horrified daughter noted. She didn’t have to look far to find willing participants. Most of those who responded lived nearby. Finally, she would draw a map showing how to get home, take a photo of it and send it to her chosen ones, guiding them via text message on their final approach. Cars had to be parked in a nearby gym so as not to alert the neighbours. Every detail was considered. No one could wear perfume or smoke, so no trace of their presence was left. Mobile phones had to be left in the cars to avoid the risk of them being stolen and waking the victim. They even had to wash their hands in warm water so as not to shock their sleeping wife with their cold fingers. After undressing in the kitchen, the abusers were advised to keep their clothes with them in case they had to leave in a hurry. The defendants in the case were aged between 21 and 68 at the time of the alleged rapes. They included a firefighter, a truck driver, a councillor, a bank IT officer, a guard, a nurse and a journalist.
When asked if he was sexually attracted to his daughter, he said no. “She’s not my type. She’s a lot younger than what I’m used to.” Finally: “I’ve never touched my daughter.”
As the months have passed and the current trial has approached, Caroline has tried to rationalise what happened to her family and how each member has coped. “My mum is bubbly, funny and dynamic,” she says. And strong. “She didn’t break down even the day she found out one of her rapists had HIV.” A subsequent HIV test came back negative. In September 2022, Caroline set up a campaign group to raise awareness of drug use in rape and sexual violence. This campaign is one of the reasons why they have refrained from anonymity in today’s trial. “There is still a lot to do,” she says.
But she has struggled to escape her father’s shadow. “As the trial date approaches, I find myself dreaming of him when I can sleep,” she writes. “I have tried in vain to understand the true identity of the man who raised me. My father is a criminal, and I must learn to live with that hideous reality, torn apart by the need for justice, for truth, for the love I once felt for him. I fear I will never be able to hate him.”
Et j’ai cessé de t’appeler papa (And I Stopped Calling You Dad) by Caroline Darian is published in French by HarperCollins