On Research
from the other side of the screen
Editorial Column by Alexa Manning – September 2026
On September 4th, I finally submitted the 15,000-word dissertation that hung around my neck all summer. It was a labor of love, but more importantly a labor of resistance.
To complete my MA in English Literary Studies (I am the master now) I completed a close reading of the Lais of Marie de France—a twelfth century translator and poet. These oral stories from the Celtic region of France, Brittany, were put to paper by Marie in Old French during the Anglo-Norman occupation of Britain and tell various stories that critique the patriarchal frameworks of Western social culture, especially related to sex, marriage, love, and desire.
Exeter, the English city I have been studying in for the past two years, has a rich literary history that reaches back centuries. It is even referenced in one of the Lais as a destination for knights proving their courtly prowess. But, at every step of my MA, it felt as if funding, attention, respect, and resources for medieval studies were being drained.
My professors expressed feeling pushed out of medieval studies for their perspectives that went against the grain, ridiculed for elevating the documented voices of medieval women. Class options were cast away and I couldn’t even do an independent study to supplement the fact that my interests were no longer represented in the course.
This summer, however, the university announced plans to reduce the faculty in the Humanities and Social Sciences by half, whether by voluntary or compulsory layoffs. We were told this was a money issue, but it soon came to light that, in fact, the money the uni does have is being redirected towards military and AI research.
The reality is that critical thinking, compassion, and reason are being suppressed in favor of fear-mongering and violence.
So, not only was I experiencing the pressure of actually completing my dissertation, I was contending with the understanding that my perspective is not one that the university values in the slightest.
Actual research that pushes the bounds of human understanding, that exposes the flaws of the status quo, that envisions a better future is being silenced in favor of making war.
At first I found this demoralizing, it took all the inspiration and determination out of my sails. But then I became angry. While I know that my dissertation won’t be read by anyone that has the power to change the direction the university is going in, I kept writing to resist internalizing the idea that the humanities are unimportant.
Literary culture used to be the creme de la creme, the most prestigious academic focus and high brow art. Now it is not uncommon to hear that someone you know believes the only thing you can do with a Literature degree is “be a failed author” (yes I have had this said to me).
We have seen this before, the medieval period dubbed as “The Dark Ages” during The Enlightenment to tamp down the creativity and curious nature that had been fostered in literature. My dissertation focused on feminist critiques that were present in the twelfth century and have persisted to the twenty-first, showing that humanity is stuck in a vicious cycle of regressing.
What society seems to have forgotten is the power in expanding one’s world view through narrative and the written word. Compassion and empathy have been deemed cringe in the era of nonchalance. Creativity is stifled under imploding capitalism and pleasure is blamed for extortionate price inflation.
Reading, thereby engaging in other cultures and practicing critical thinking, is the path of resistance. Alongside art, history, film, comedy, and so much more, media is the portal to compassion. Therefore, creativity and inspiration are our tools for fighting back. Creation is protest.
