Mazan is a postcard from Provence: a small medieval hilltop village, surrounded by vineyards, with windswept Mount Ventoux rising in the distance.
For years, It was known for its nearby cycling routes, who often appear in the Tour de France, and by a notorious 18th century figure, the Marquis de Sade, whose elegant mansion in the middle of the village has been converted into its most luxurious hotel.
It is now infamous for being the place where Gisèle Pelicot was drugged on a regular basis. for the man who has been her husband for 50 years, who also offered her to strange men for sexual relations. In September, 51 men went on trial in nearby Avignon, most accused of the aggravated rape of 71-year-old Gisèle Pelicot.
About 15 of the accused, including Dominique Pelicot, ex-husband of Gisèle Pelicot, have pleaded guilty. The others have said they had sexual relations with her, but dispute the rape charges; Most argue that her husband lured them to the couple’s bedroom, with the promise of a threesome, and She made them believe that she was pretending to sleep or that she was sleeping as part of the couple’s sexual fantasy.
The trial has shocked the country, raising deep and disturbing questions about relationships between men and women, and the prevalence of rape.
No place has been as shaken as Mazan, 1.6 kilometers northeast of Avignon, with a population of 6,300 inhabitants.
Here, the story is not only horrifying; It feels oppressively personal.
“It’s not on the other side of the world,” said Elisabeth Koenig, 72, who lives a few blocks from the couple’s former home, which she often passed by when walking her dog. This happened at my house. It feels a little like it’s in our family.”
A few weeks ago, she drove to Avignon with her granddaughter, to spend the day in court watching the trial. She left “red as a poppy” with fury, she said.
“It’s a catastrophe — and he said he imagined the horror of finding out that a member of his family “had hurt my children or my grandchildren like that.” Koenig added, “This story feels personal.”
almost paradise
About 30 percent of Mazan residents are retireesattracted by the mild temperatures, the picturesque atmosphere of the town and the access to the services and culture of the nearby large cities. That was what attracted the Pelicot in 2013when they moved from the Paris region shortly after Gisèle Pelicot He was retiring from his management job in a large French company.
They rented a pretty pale yellow bungalow on a closed street, with a swimming pool and lush garden, where their children and grandchildren gathered to spend long summer vacations together. It was just a 15 minute walk from the historic part of town with its shops and cafes.
Just around the corner is the city’s main sports complex, where children play soccer on the weekends, and where Dominique Pelicot told the men he met online and invited to his house to park their cars, so as not to raise suspicions among his neighbors.
Then, as he told the court last month, He took them to the house, ordered them to undress in the kitchen. in case his wife woke up and they needed to leave quickly, and he took them to the bedroom where she was unconscious, often snoring loudly.
Rumors had circulated through the city before the trial beganbut many dismissed them as exaggerated, and even impossible. It is a small town, where everyone is separated by no more than two degrees, it is not a big city where horrible things happen, many thought.
“We imagined it could happen somewhere else, but not here,” said Anne Pinna, 57, who joined about 500 people in a recent march from the town to a nearby horse farm that had organized the event in support of Gisèle. Pelicot and other victims of rape and violence. “We are a town of families.”
Only three of the accused, including Dominique Pelicot, were from Mazan. Most of the others lived within a 40-mile radius, close enough that many locals know one or two.
“I have cut ties,” Pinna said of a man she knew. It seems so disgusting to me that I don’t even want to hear what it says. “There is no excuse.”
During the police investigation, the list of suspects grew to 83. But police were only able to identify and locate just over 50. The rest were never found, raising disturbing suspicion.
“I admit that when I’m at the post office or anywhere else, I say to myself, ‘I wonder if that guy went to see Madame Pelicot,’” said Koenig, a retired manager.
Recently, at the Saturday market in front of City Hall, Frédérique Imbs put the chives she had just bought into her bag and looked up, past the musicians playing guitar and bass in the distance. “How can people get to that place? he asked, before adding, “Maybe even one of those men in front of us.”
The trial and its daily revelations have also sparked political unrest. in Mazan.
In a clumsy attempt to protect the city’s reputation, Mayor Louis Bonnet told the BBC last month that “it would have been much worse” if Dominique Pelicot “had killed his wife,” adding that she could rebuild her life because I wasn’t dead.
The interview sparked a backlash. and he later apologized, saying that he had been besieged by journalists, many of whom sought to discredit the city, and that “in the relentless media pressure” he had chosen the wrong words. Even so, the reaction was immediate.
“As an elected official, and especially as a woman, I cannot understand his comments in any way, much less tolerate them,” said Eve Gallas, who is among the opposition councilors calling for the mayor’s resignation. “I have the impression that he has never wanted to support Madame Pelicot and her family.”
In the face of criticism, Bonnet recently took some time off, without offering a date to return to work. A month after the BBC article, he has published a new statement reaffirming his comments about journalists and adding that Gisèle Pelicot should be respected for her bravery and that all of Mazan supports her.
Many are upset that their hometown is now linked to this terrible story, and that national newspapers have sections on their front pages about the “Mazan violations.”
“There are other repercussions that will linger,” said Christophe Simonini, a local beekeeper and olive grower, who sells olive oil and honey at the Saturday market.
At the recent march in support of Gisèle Pelicotthrough an idyllic landscape of vineyards and olive trees, many of attendees echoed the shock and horror that has invaded the country upon seeing this trial, as well as an incipient hope that, in some way, it will herald a profound social change for France.
Near the end of the march, two friends carrying white roses said they didn’t know Gisèle Pelicot before to pack his bags in a hurry and leave forever the house that had become a crime scene, and the city.
But they talked about her as if they knew her. They said they admired her for her dignity and her courage. to allow an open trial as a public service. She was a grandmother, like them. And it was from Mazan.
“I hope they really support her after the trial,” said Anne Chartier, a 66-year-old retired midwife. “It will have to be rebuilt.”
Her friend Dany Baychère, 76, agreed: “She could collapse, poor thing. They offer her flowers and applaud her in court. But afterward, there will be a void. “It won’t be easy for her.”
c.2024 The New York Times Company
Selected articles from the New York Times
Ségolène Le Stradic contributed from Paris.
