Have you ever gone back and re-read a book you loved as a child only to find it incredibly disturbing now that you're an adult? Like The Giving Tree, for example: a terrifying tale of self-sacrifice or a reassuring story of maternal love?
MOST of the books I loved as a kid are rather disturbing but I liked them them and LOVE them now. I was always especially fond of strange drawings, dreary rhymes and violent plots.
Example: Struwwelpeter, which not only has harsh, sadistic, scary moral tales for kids, but freaky drawings!
But ah, the flame it caught her clothes,
Her apron, too; and higher rose;
Her hand is burnt, her hair's afire,
Consumed is that child entire.
And Mintz and Mountz wild crying,
The while the child was frying,
"Come quick !" they said. "O Sire.
Your darling child's afire !
Me-yow ! Me-yo ! Me-yow ! Me-yo !
She's cinders, soot, and ashes, O!
Now one book I CAN think of that I now find disturbing, in a bad way, is The Little House. It's a classic and I used to love it, but nowadays it reads to me like a metaphor of white flight and suburbanization.