I’m a cynic by nature, a misanthrope by training. I was pretty young when I read The Outsiders and never went on to read other Hinton books. Upon maturation, I found The Outsiders simplistic and trite. I was somewhat ashamed of my original adoration of the novel.
However, it’s a case of hindsight - seeing the curtain pulled back and realizing the wizard is just an impotent old man. Other novels have been the same experience. I really liked The Fault in Our Stars when I first read it, but came to loathe it as I taught it to successive classes in my Contemp Lit class. The Art of Racing in the Rain was similar, although I never came to loathe it.
My fifteen year old son is on the other end of the spectrum. He read Lord of the Flies in school this year and loved it - he is beginning to understand organic unity and how authors achieve it. In a few years, he will be mad at himself for being so easily manipulated by a journeyman author.