Expanding the Dynastic Realm in Henry Fielding's Joseph Andrews

Benedict Anderson, in his piece titled "Reflections on Origin and Spread of Nationalism," writes [in regards to the dynastic realm]:
But in the older imagining, where states were defined by centers, borders were porous and indistinct, and sovereignties faded imperceptibly into one another. Hence, paradoxically enough, the ease with which pre-modern empires and kingdoms were able to sustain their rule over immensely heterogeneous, and often not even contiguous, populations for long periods of time (Anderson 419).

Thus, the transcendence of a nationalism, which is indeed 'absurd,' can be viewed as something comical. The paradox of balancing the ideals of virtue with a nationalistic (nationalism being a cultural approach to identity itself, as opposed to a mere political frame of mind) endeavor to culminate a dynasty is truly void of rewards.

So, in Joseph Andrews, no better character could have been chosen than a self-centered pastor to reflect this humor. In chapter eight of book two, the pastor "appears in a political light"-language itself points out that the pastor (or even the idea of the pastor), here, is becoming visible as a political idol whose role is to perform a rationalized heresy in order to promote himself up the religious ladder ( Fielding 115).

The pastor says, "I am an honest Man, and would not do an ill thing to be made a bishop... I have not been without Opportunities of suffering for the sake of my Conscience... Indeed, it looks like extreme Vanity in me, to affect being a man of such Consequence, as to have so great an interest in Alderman" (Fielding 115).

The pastor is certainly jaded; in order to further himself in the church [by becoming alderman] he must vote for whom the Rector has chosen. Ironically, he mentions that this is "at a Season when the Church was in danger," a suggestion that the pastor himself was becoming a dissenter within his own church! Later, he is propositioned again, to become a chaplain to a colonel's regiment at the sacrifice of everything to his Country.

Surely the religious community (specifically that of an eighteenth-century Catholic one, which adapted to the colonialism of England) reflects this compromise: the replacement of a [greatly rationalized] holy soul for that of a nation's. Through the idea of verticality, the religious hierarchy was in itself a way to sell one's soul-to the man of higher rank and to the heterogeneous population that is ruled over.

This comes, however, with a notable complication; whose soul is perfect in the first place? Certainly not the pastor's; he continues his dissertation to say, "...Many a time after service on a Sunday... have I recruited my Spirits with a Glass of his Ale."

Once again, Fielding communicates directly to his working class audience by allowing them to lampoon those of higher ranking. Yet with this laughter comes a distinct criticism: when distinct lines cannot be drawn between differing dynastic realms, religious communities, or a combination both, there lies no true ruling order. It is merely a series of power-grabs being repeated throughout history, despite the changing face of nationalistic tribute.

Fielding recognized the power of the true individual, someone who did not need to play into an exploitative hierarchy just for a chance at a dissipating salvation.