There is a kind of unimaginable horror. It happens there, and you always see it with the distance that you think separates you from the monstrous, from that adjective so often used to dehumanize what is human. But when you are a woman, the distance is always the same. What changes, in any case, is luck or the social context.
We are all deeply fed up, we are all deeply horrified this week by the case of Gisèle P, this French woman who imposed herself with all the dignity in the world in the macro-trial against her husband, the man who raped her for years. and gave her a sedative so that other men would do it too, 51 guys in particular. It is all so atrocious that it is even difficult to read it, I suppose because we all think, deep down, that something like this could potentially happen to us.
