The Disenchanted is the sad story of Kuzey and his look at his own self, a hurt man who is on a voluntary exile on the edge of a peninsula, one that has been left unmanned for many years that is neighbors with the city Homer was born in, where the sun sinks into the sea like a drop of blood dripping from God’s wound and where each and every disciple of Sheik Bedrettin  (an insurgent from 15^Th  century)  was slaughtered to death.

An emotional thinking on love, regret, friendship, virtues and state of mankind; a bold experimentation on the dilemma of being in love and loving: this is how we can define The Dischanted, the ninth novel of Mehmet Erođlu.

Unlike the richly versatile themes in his other works, Mehmet Erođlu focuses on only one topic in this novel: the dilemma of love and affection,.

On one side, there is Kuzey, a disenchanted man who has choose to be ‘the last person to forget’ all his life and drinks to make his pain bearable, and ‘on whom adulthood looks like a flaw’; and on the other side there is Ţafak, determined to look for ‘that thing which is more splendid than happiness’; and Çiđdem, who is ‘to go after to the one who loves her the most, not to the one she loves’. A man in his fifties and two 25-year old women! The Disenchanted, a story told through the window of an incorruptible regret, is a novel in which two love stories - one of from the past and one of the present – that mingle in a dramatic context are skillfully edited through the novel.

Dolphin people living both in the sea and on the land, secrets believed to go back to the time of Sheik Bedrettin, unique natural descriptions and sub stories with local elements . . . By choosing the Karaburun Peninsula, which he himself is also a part of, as the setting of the sad love story in The Disenchanted, Mehmet Erođlu recreates this place with its people and nature . . .

It can easily be seen that The Disenchanted, besides its concern to explore human beings, is a novel which tries to absorb our inclination to love … An experimentation emphasizing that “Love”, in one aspect, “is the most delicate shivering of our heart …” while it is also “a certainty which takes everything or gives everything”, and stating that “Other feelings like pity and compassion are placed only on the outer circle”. . . The dramatic essence - on which the two love stories that are tied to each other in an appealing way in the novel, is built - arise from the dilemma of love and affection.

Underneath the outer surface of the tightly woven embroidered topic, there is a searching for an answer of how two different, even contrasting characters are attracted to each other. We find ourselves facing that provocative question that appears before us in every love story: Why do we love someone, why do we fall in love? This, when we look at the heroes of The Disenchanted is a question the answer of which defers according to the age of the lover: “While a young individual always loves –prioritizing his ego - for himself, a person who has reached the vintage of years, loves only because of who the person really is, whereas the young one challenges his lover for more than he can give, the elder one bewares of that to love, at times, means to give in...”

For Kuzey, love is the expression of inclining to beauty and liveliness and to the will to live, whereas for Ţafak it is being ready to accept everything that is to come as if lying on an altar; and for Çiđdem, it is accepting a lye … Even if we define love like Ţafak, as ‘the most splendid thing a man and a woman can form together’, The Disenchanted whispers into our ears that we ought not to forget that one half of love is probability, and the other half deception. This, actually, is the main topic of the novel, the theme which develops at the heart of a nature out of sight and far from the routines of life.

Another ground that makes The Disenchanted an interesting novel is the ideas regarding the generation they belong to represented by Kuzey, and his eternal friend, comrade Sami who has chosen to become a spiritual ascetic. In the novel, the 1968 generation is defined as follows by Ýhsan, the mad philosopher who is after Pure Goodness and dreams of turning Karaburun into a philosophical center: “How can one be indifferent to such a generation molded with a Dostoyevskian guilt and protecting its enraged conscious? It is obvious that this generation, equipped by God with a burden of unbearable weight and a conscience, loved human beings in a passionate, lustful way. They desperately tried to leave a mark on earth. Perhaps they were mendicants begging for approval and tending to become conspicuous, or perhaps they were dreamers; they tried to be knights in an age when there were no windmills at all; perhaps their efforts were weak. But they never gave up on their will to change the world … To sum it up; we have to admit they were the kind of people that will not mix into soil. They were habitants not of the earth but of the sky. We may say many things about them, but never can say they were dull …”