I read this book about 20 years ago. So now, I'm picking it up again to read and, turning to the first chapter, I didn't remember that much about it. I know that I was wildly enthusiastic about the book when I read it long ago. Now I am not quite that enthusiastic. However, I am seeing depth where I don't recall there being any before. I'm seeing nuance, where there was none before. I'm obviously reading with older eyes and life experiences. Scenes are standing out for me this time that didn't before.
That's what I like love about books. I can grow with them.