In one’s twenties, it is easy to read this as a book about individuality: the refusal to accept the limits of the flock, the desire to fly differently, the romance of being apart.
Re-reading it later, I see something sadder in it too. There is loneliness in that distance. There is also the loss of family and ordinary connection.
Man is a social animal, however grandly he may speak about freedom. Meaning is not found only in escape, mastery, or separateness. It is also searched for in connection.
That is why the book survives rereading for me. It is still a classic, but no longer a simple anthem.