That's why I use GRRM as my representation of modern fantasy authors; reading his works certainly does let us--as a reader--get genuine insight into the human condition, just not in the same way as LotR. Where LotR conveys most of the good guys as just plain ol' good guys, ASoIaF lets us meet many different characters with different opinions and beliefs, and the way that they see and react to an event can show us certain things about the character that shows true insight. How can we not have insight into human condition when the events that take place happen because of these different humans and what they choose to do?
Also, Tolkien may give us 'insight,' but, honestly, when I read the book I didn't really care much about what happened to the characters. I felt so dragged down by the information I was being given that I felt taken away from the characters, and the situation seemed unemotional (I think I've mentioned this before).
Here we're talking about different things. You are speaking of insight into a particular character; what I'm addressing is insight into the human condition -- something with much broader application (and implication). As for the "just good 'ol guys" comment: Boromir, who is a genuinely good person whose Achilles' heel is his very strength: his love of his people and his father, his belief in honor and tradition; all of which he sees threatened... and the perfect weapon is within his grasp... and he is made part of the mission to destroy that weapon; a paradox with which he struggles throughout the remainder of his life, and which finally overcomes him so that he nearly -- in attempting to protect these things -- destroys the only (faint) hope of defeatng the enemy. Something that anyone who has found themselves in an irresoluble dilemma can identify with
strongly. Gimli: proud, strong, steadfast... and a coward (at least in his own eyes) when it comes to the point, where the very race (the Elves) he has long (by his people's traditions) despised proves unaffected; he has to deal with the scars of that shame for the rest of his life -- though, as in real life, he doesn't continue to moan and kvetch about it continually afterward; instead, it affects his
reactions forever afterward. Ever been put in a position where you were faced with such a choice? I have, and I know several who have. Gimli's actions are very true to life here. You live with what you learn about yourself -- but those scars don't
ever really heal. (Which, incidentally, may just be a hint as to another reason an exception was made in Gimli's case, and he was allowed to sail into the West.) Denethor: A very noble man; a proud, stern, but overall just man; driven by his pride in his people's traditions and an unspoken (and largely unacknowledged) resentment against the kings who had (in a sense) abandoned them to betray those very traditions -- the traditions which had been the very purpose of his family's line for centuries, and of his own existence all his life; a man whose pride and hurt drove him to essentially commit both his sons to death. Not to mention both Frodo and Sam (and Gandalf), who are much more complex than simply good guys. And there are countless more examples.
The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss has an obviously dense and thought out history, and he doesn't need to give us too much of it like J.R.R. Tolkien does. He provides information to his world without going into in-depth explanations of what just happened, and I still get it and continue to read on smoothly.
The Blade Itself by Joe Abercrombie is another good example. If you read this book it is obvious that Abercrombie has done much more than just draw a couple of maps and get to his writing. There is certainly a long and detailed history behind the world that The Blade Itself is set in, and we don't need to know the history of a race to enjoy the race in front of us.
Also, the two examples that I chose also work for your first point about insight into the human condition. Both move fast, but both also offer lots of insight. The Name of the Wind only offers us insight to one character (since it is told in the first person) but the insight that we get is enough for ten characters, and when I put that book down I felt like Kvothe was standing right next to me. The Blade Itself takes another and equally as effective approach. During scenes of dialog, the POV character will usually think about what he/she has said and what the person she/he was talking to said, and that will reveal more about the character's state of mind, ideas, and true feelings for the other characters in the book. Both of these books are triumphantly fast-paced, and they both give me pleanty of insight into the human condition.
As I've not read either (yet) I don't feel competent to comment here, save in a very general fashion on this last point. Once again, the example you use (at least, from your description) is insight into a character, but stated, didactic, when it comes to that
one character, and assumed (from his own opinions) rather than given subtly, through their actions and brief insights into their thoughts and emotional states, when it comes to others. First-person narrative is a slippery thing (hence the "unreliable narrator" idea), as any insight the reader may gather must, necessarily, be
filtered through a single character's perceptions, and therefore be incomplete and very open to error. This is not -- again -- to denigrate first-person narrative (a narrative choice I am strongly in favor of, as it opens up very rich possibilities for character development and ambiguity), but simply to note that it very seldom allows for the broader insight into the human heart save by implication, rather than statement. It is when the reader is questioning the narrative voice that the most insight is gained, including that into the narrator him/herself.
This comes down to our own opinions, because to me there seems to be lots of very cuttable material that would make the book more enjoyable. With more cut, I would be able to focus squarely on the characters and the events that take place in their lives.
And I don't think it matters how much I want to be a part of the world offered by the author. I want to take all that they have to give me and get lost in it, no matter who it is. I just think that Tolkien gave me too much, GRRM gives me a little bit less than I wanted, and Abercrombie/Rothfuss gave me just what I like!
Also, another difference between Tolkien and the modern fantasy authors: LotR is nothing more than a fairy-tale. I think we can all agree on that. For that reason, nobody dies. To me, that is not what I like to read. One of the reasons I enjoy GRRM so much is because characters die and I actually feel nervous when a character is in peril. In LotR, I know that the character will escape, and that takes away from the experience. But, I'm a dark person, so it might be just my strange opinion.
"Nothing more than a fairy tale" -- in one (very limited) sense, this is true, in that it is in the tradition of narratives about "Faërie"; but only in this sense. As noted in my previous posts, the book is rooted in Tolkien's very real experience of life (including having lost all but one of his friends during the First World War) -- and as for the comment that "nobody dies"... the book is
permeated by death (necessarily so, given not only his own experience, but the fact that he was an Augustinian Christian, one whose views were very much lapsarian in nature). Again: Boromir; Gollum/Smeagol (who undergoes two types of death, be it noted: death of his original personality and death of the body, with his secondary personality); Theoden; Denethor; Saruman; Gríma (Wormtongue)... and, again, these are just a few of the deaths we witness... and all of them are (or had at one time been) "the good guys". The air of the book stinks with death: death of individuals, death of nations, death of hopes, death of ways of life... not to mention the death of innocence, as we see the hobbits change (compare, for instance, all of the four main hobbit characters in "Scouring of the Shire" with what they had been in "A Long-Expected Party"; as Saruman notes: "You have grown, Halfling.... Yes, you have grown very much. You are wise, and cruel." (And, for that matter, what of the terrible possibility of the death of love -- the sort of deep and abiding love that faced the choice of death in an heroic struggle without flinching -- resulting when Arwen is truly face-to-face with the upshot of her choice... when she no longer has the option to alter the outcome, and loses literally
everything; a deathless person now faced with the reality of their own slow death, having already lost all they love, yet not to find the release of death for long years to come?) What we see here is the reflection of an entire generation that has lost its innocence in the Great War. A "fairy-tale" this may be, but it is a far cry from "
nothing more than a fairy tale". No; I don't think we can agree on that at all.
Again, what I'm seeing here (as with so many instances) is a much shallower, much more lax, reading of books that has become very much the norm these days... a trend begun a long time back; at least as far back as the old chapbooks and penny dreadfuls of the late eighteenth and nineteenth centuries; a trend where, if a thing isn't put out there in black-and-white, it all-too-often isn't seen. And this is a pity, as it actually limits the layers and levels of experience one can receive from a book and makes it a shallower experience. A more attentive reading of LotR (or, for that matter, many older works) will, I venture to say, reveal that it has much, much more to offer about "life in the real world" than so many more modern works, because it reflects not just the author's thoughts on things, but their unconscious impressions of the world around them (people included) as well; and thus has much,
much more to say about not
characters, but
genuine human beings, than has one where a writer (no matter how talented) has sat down and created a character to tell their story through. Once again, I think William Godwin's statement is applicable here, and the disparity between the types of things we are each describing is a shining example of what he is saying....