Personally, reading Higurashi first and greatly disliking it made me hesitant to try Umineko.
Some of my greatest fears include isolation, rusty metal (after hearing a story as a child involving someone nearly dying of blood poisoning; it was meant to be exciting, but just managed to scare me), and needles. Higurashi managed to, in Episode 1, get under my skin with all of these.
This is obviously intentional. By scaring me with a flurry of increasingly terrifying situations, Higurashi wants me to connect with Keiichi through a shared emotion - fear. The more powerful this emotion, the stronger the bond between the reader and the character they’re experiencing it through.
It’s the same principe often used by romantic works; by making you care about a character as if they were real, the impact of the story becomes so much greater. Tragedies happening to a character you care about makes you sad, and when they finally achieve happiness, you feel happy as well. If you didn’t connect to the characters in the story, this wouldn’t work.
Unfortunately, in my case, I get far too deep into these works. I don’t just enjoy the tingle of fear some people feel as Keiichi gets pursued by someone he thought of as a friend, now seeking to murder him for reasons he doesn’t understand, with nowhere to go and nobody to call for help. I get terrified, and I feel physically ill from immersing myself far too deep into this situation.
I was worried that Umineko would be the same, hence why it ended up on my backlog for over five years. Fortunately, I was wrong; Umineko doesn’t try to scare me, it challenges me to solve a seemingly impossible mystery. It’s a detective novel, where the “detective” is incredibly confused and won’t just explain how the murderer did it at the end… because by then, he’s already become one of the victims. It’s up to the reader to try to make sense of the clues and figure it out for themselves. That, I can get behind.