Tolkien is to creative literary genius what Martin is to hack pulp idiocy...

Tolkien is to creative literary genius what Martin is to hack pulp idiocy. They both so far surpass anyone else in their field that they will be remembered 1,000 years from now as a kind of yin and yang of fantasy, a Manichean duality of speculative letters. For every sublime, luminous beauty that Tolkien has gifted the world, Martin has cursed us with a tedious, banal ugliness. It is unfair to compare the two directly on any one point, because Martin is in every way the anti-Tolkien, patently sterile, parasitical, and inferior, but so much so that he becomes a monument in his own right, and counterbalances Tolkien. Could one exist without the other? Tolkien obviously could. But it is only by the contrast that Martin offers that we can truly appreciate the full depths and heights of Tolkien. Our understanding of Tolkien would be incomplete if Martin had never set pen to page. It is through only the abject failure and futility of Martin that we can approach an apprehension of the true scope and scale of Tolkien's hitherto inconceivable greatness. Perhaps this is what Tolkien had in mind when he wrote about the Music of the Ainur. If Tolkien is a subcreator in the image of Eru, truly Martin is like unto Melkor. It is only reflected in the awfulness of the one that we can fully see the goodness of the other.

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I'm not going to read all that
>GoT = Adults
>LoTR = Children

>Books
ASOIAF > LOTR
>film/series adaptations
LOTR > GOT

>That's bait.jpg

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The Cinnamon Wind was spinning all around them and he could taste the rum on Gilly's tongue and the next thing her breasts were bare and he was touching them. I said the words, Sam thought again, but one of her nipples found its way between his lips. It was pink and hard and when he sucked on it her milk filled his mouth, mingling with the taste of rum, and he had never tasted anything so fine and sweet and good. If I do this I am no better than Dareon, Sam thought, but it felt too good to stop. And suddenly his cock was out, jutting upward from his breeches like a fat pink mast. It looked so silly standing there that he might have laughed, but Gilly pushed him back onto her pallet, hiked her skirts up around her thighs, and lowered herself onto him with a little whimpery sound. That was even better than her nipples.

vs

Where now are the horse and the rider? Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk, and the bright hair flowing?
Where is the harp on the harpstring, and the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest and the tall corn growing?
They have passed like rain on the mountain, like a wind in the meadow;
The days have gone down in the West behind the hills into shadow.
Who shall gather the smoke of the deadwood burning,
Or behold the flowing years from the Sea returning?

t. cumbrains

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why do you tolkien fags have to start this shit?
we get it, nothing is going on for you guys in tv and film but soon amazon will make you relevant again

>High Fantasy vs Low Fantasy
>OMG LOW FANTASY SUCKS CAUSE ITS NOT LIKE DA HIGH FANTASY WHAT A HACK
*yaaaaawn*

In about 100 years kids will still be reading Tolkien's books yet George RR's works would be lost in the waves of time. Look at twin peaks, what was arguably the GOT of the 80's and you get ask some gen Z kid about it and a blank face is what you get.

GoT is degenerate because of the sexual stuff that doesnt belong in real fantasy