PARIS — Ars-en-Ré. It is in this small village of salt workers, recognizable by its black and white bell tower, that Gisèle Pelicot is starting a new chapter. Sailboat masts have replaced microphone stands. The sound of the surf on the sand has drowned out the hubbub of the waiting room. Nine days after the verdict on Dec. 19, 2024, the 72-year-old woman poses on the island famous for its houses with green and blue shutters alongside her youngest son, Florian, who posts the photo on his Instagram account. In a painting-like light, the woman who wanted shame to change sides smiles. She stares at the camera as if to say, “I’m moving forward, life goes on.”
A year has passed since the opening of the Mazan rape trial. Gisèle Pelicot still lives on the Île de Ré. But how does one find the path back to normality after a journey to the heart of darkness? How did she cope with this transition from total anonymity to iconic status? What is life like “post Mazan” when your name is Gisèle Pelicot?
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She was able to catch her breath during the Christmas break. But the respite was short-lived. “Gisèle was in demand all over the world,” recalls one of her lawyers, Stéphane Babonneau. “All the major French and international newspapers wanted to interview her. In Colorado, she was asked to be the keynote speaker at a roundtable on violence against women. In Germany, the United Kingdom, Australia: Everywhere, she was invited by heads of government, parliamentarians, and experts to conferences, forums, symposiums…” Even at the Council of Europe, where Babonneau went to represent her, everybody wanted to see Gisèle Pelicot.
There were the invitations, and then there were the letters. Some were anonymous, but others came from prominent figures on the international stage: Queen Consort Camilla herself put pen to paper to express her admiration for her “dignity” and “courage.”
Sole destination
Since then, Gisèle Pelicot’s lawyers, Babonneau and Antoine Camus, have regularly received letters of all kinds. How could they forget the envelope that landed in their hands after a call from the Avignon police station? On the back, there were only three words: “Gisèle Pelicot, Avignon.” Even though the sender had no idea what address to write, the letter still reached its destination.
After the letters, came the honors. In May, Gisèle Pelicot was one of three finalists for the Council of Europe’s Vigdis Prize for the empowerment of women. Then, in June, she was awarded the Prix Liberté in Caen by the Normandy region “for her fight against the trivialization of rape and sexual violence.” Through her son Florian, who attended the ceremony, Gisèle Pelicot received €25,000. She donated the entire sum to the Maison d’Accueil pour les Victimes (MAV) shelter for victims. In July, she came second in a vote by law students at the Free University of Brussels (ULB) to determine which public figure would be selected to represent their graduating class. The choice ultimately fell on LFI MEP Rima Hassan.
Gisèle Pelicot was also elevated to the prestigious rank of Knight of the Legion of Honor last July. On social media, some of her detractors saw this as yet another “glorification” of a victim and questioned what service she could possibly have rendered to her country. “It would be wrong to say that she received the Legion of Honor because she was a victim of rape. That is not the case. This Legion of Honor is justified because, through her personal hardships, she sent a universal message that shook society,” says Babonneau, emphasizing that the reach of Gisèle Pelicot has “gone beyond her particular case.” “When you see the thousands of letters she received saying ‘Thank you, Gisèle, for breaking the silence,’ you realize the power of her message. By choosing to make the hearing public, she contributed to the idea that it was possible to say, without shame: ’I was a victim of sexual violence.’ No one can say that the fight against sexual violence is the same before and after Mazan.”
“By showing concretely what it means to be raped, she has advanced the perception of sexual violence.”
Especially since this message has crossed borders. How can we forget the words of the President of the Chilean Chamber of Deputies who, during a speech to Congress in the presence of Emmanuel Macron, praised “the courage and dignity of Gisèle Pelicot,” after quoting Marie Curie, Olympe de Gouges, and Simone Veil? “If she is receiving the Legion of Honor, it is not only because, through her presence, resilience, and commitment, she has given courage to other women, but also because, by showing concretely what it means to be raped, she has advanced the perception of sexual violence,” concludes the criminal lawyer.
Gisèle Pelicot has also distinguished herself in international rankings. In December, the Financial Times named her one of the 25 most influential women of 2024. The British business daily was quickly followed by the rest of the press: in April 2025, the American Time magazine included her in its famous ranking of the 100 most influential personalities. Then the BBC named her one of the 100 women of 2024. The German edition of Vogue put her on the cover on the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women; under the illustration, the caption read: “No more shame.”
A broken family
There were the honors, and then there was the family. Florian, her youngest son, always remained by her side. For Mother’s Day, he put together a music album for her, États d’âme (States of Mind), in which he recounts the trial. He named his songs “Gisèle (mother in battle),” “Impuissance (Powerlessness, the weight of the facts),” “Solitude (Silence of the soul),” “Effondrement (Collapse, facing the evidence),” “Lutte (Struggle, resisting chaos),” and “Émergence (Emergence, light in the shadows).” On his Instagram page, he regularly posts selfies showing him alongside his mother. He expresses his pride in being her son. Commenters come from all over the world. All express their support and admiration for this “heroine.”
Her eldest son, David, seems more reserved. “Our family has been destroyed,” he said last April on BFMTV. On social media and in the press, he supports his sister, Caroline. During the trial, the young woman urged her father to tell the truth about her: investigators had discovered photos of Caroline unconscious, lying on a bed and wearing a T-shirt and panties that she did not recognize as hers, on Dominique Pelicot’s hard drive. But Dominique Pelicot has always denied having committed incestuous acts against his only daughter.
Mother and daughter
Last March, claiming to be “the forgotten victim in this trial,” Caroline Darian finally filed a complaint against her father in Versailles for “administration of psychoactive substances” and “sexual abuse.” “The only difference between Gisèle and me is tangible and irrefutable evidence,” she declared in court. Shortly thereafter, she published a second book with JC Lattès, Pour que l’on se souvienne (“So That We Remember”). Since the end of the trial, a chasm has opened up between them. The mother and daughter are no longer on speaking terms.
A week ago, Darian chose to speak out on the subject during an interview with the British daily newspaper The Telegraph. In the interview, the 40-year-old said she had lost not only her father but also her mother, accusing Gisèle Pelicot of having “abandoned” her. In particular, she reproaches her for “refusing to believe that [she] could also have been raped by [her] father.” A way, Darian said a few months ago on BFMTV, for her mother to “protect herself” from the abominable idea that her daughter could have suffered the same fate as her. These comments in The Telegraph necessarily echo the words spoken in court by her brother David: “This trial is not only the trial of Gisèle Pelicot, but the trial of an entire family that has been completely destroyed.” For Gisèle’s lawyers, this rift between the members of the Pelicot family is nothing unusual: “In all cases of domestic violence, families fall apart,” says Babonneau, while emphasizing that Gisèle Pelicot was “deeply affected” by reading the Telegraph article.
While this family breakup was particularly painful for Gisèle Pelicot, she was also very concerned about the lawsuit she filed against Paris Match for “invasion of privacy and image rights.” At issue were photos taken without her knowledge while she was walking with her new partner, Jean-Loup. “For Gisèle, it was a shock. She was reliving exactly what she had been through. She was very angry. It hurt her deeply,” said Babonneau. In June, an out-of-court settlement of €40,000 was signed with the magazine. Half of this sum was donated to the Women Safe & Children association, which supports women and children exposed to domestic violence. The other half was donated to the Isofaculté association, which provides equine therapy for women who are victims of violence.
And then, of course, there is writing. Working alongside author and journalist Judith Perrignon, Gisèle Pelicot has been busy writing her memoirs. The book is scheduled for publication in January 2026 by Flammarion. But for now, Gisèle Pelicot is preparing for the appeal trial. This time, the trial is not scheduled to last four months, like at the Vaucluse Criminal Court, but instead four days before the Nîmes Assize Court. Gisèle Pelicot will once again have to face the gaze of one of her ex-husband’s alleged accomplices: Of the 17 men who initially appealed the decision concerning them, only one upheld his appeal against his conviction.
From Oct. 6 to 9, Gisèle Pelicot will leave the Île de Ré once again. The creaking of hulls against the dock and the clattering of shrouds against masts will, in turn, be replaced by the sounds of clapping hands and typing keyboards.
