Hidden Gems- Murder Most Unladylike

Hidden Meanings

Let me just say this outright: The Murder Most Unladylike series by Robin Stevens is one of the most brilliant, beautifully written, quietly powerful book series I’ve ever read- and barely anyone talks about it. And I don’t get it. I really don’t. Because this series? It starts as a fun detective story… and ends up being a full-on emotional experience. A life. A journey. A deep dive into what it meant to be a girl in the 1930s. Into friendship. Identity. Belonging. It’s everything- and it’s hidden behind the perfect murder plots and casebooks.

And that’s what makes it genius.

On the surface, it’s exactly what it claims to be. A series about two girls—Hazel Wong and Daisy Wells—who form a detective society at their boarding school and go around solving murders. The cases are genuinely clever. Every single one. The mysteries are brilliant, if you are there just for the murders, you'll not be disappointed. These are real mysteries, not watered down for younger readers. But here’s the thing: the longer you read, the less it feels like it’s about the murders at all.

It’s about Hazel and Daisy. And that’s where the magic begins.

Hazel is from Hong Kong. She’s quiet, observant, thoughtful—and constantly trying to figure out where she fits. She’s seen as different by everyone at school, and you feel that difference in the smallest, most subtle ways. The stares. The comments. The fact that she’s always a little outside of things. She’s too English for home, and too foreign for school. That experience- of not fitting anywhere- is written so gently and honestly that it sneaks up on you and stays with you long after. Never is there any focus on just how Hazel is feeling, yet you know what she is thinking. How? That's what a literary miracle is.

Daisy, on the other hand, is everything Hazel’s not: loud, confident, brilliant, manipulative, reckless. She’s the golden girl who always has a plan, and always needs to be in control. But as the series goes on, we see cracks. Real ones. Not 'am I good enough?' or 'I don't think I can do this'. We learn that Daisy is queer, that she’s terrified of what that means in a world where she’s expected to grow up, get married, be a certain kind of woman. We see her frustration at being told she is lesser, made to feel lower, for no fault of hers- other than being born female. We see her striving to be her true self, when she is constantly told she is not allowed to. It’s never made into a “lesson”- it’s just there, woven into her character like a thread that only gets clearer the more you know her- just like you're actually getting to know her.

That’s the magic of it. There are no long speeches about racism or sexism or queerness. There’s no dramatic moment where someone stands up and delivers a message. And yet, you come out of these books knowing exactly what those things felt like. You understand Hazel’s quiet heartbreak when she doesn’t feel like she belongs anywhere. You feel Daisy’s frustration at being trapped in a world that wants her to be meek, submissive and obedient. Their friendship isn’t perfect—it’s jealous and selfish and kind and brave and real. They fight. They forgive. They change. You watch two girls become themselves in a world that constantly tells them not to.

And that’s why, by the end, it doesn’t even feel like a detective series anymore. It feels like a portrait of two lives. Of girlhood. Of friendship. Of growing up in a time where being a girl meant so many rules and limits—but also strength. And choice. And quiet revolution.

Yet you never would have noticed it was anything more than a murder mystery series.

That’s why it’s so frustrating that this series is so underappreciated. It’s one of the smartest, most emotionally layered pieces of writing out there—and so many people brush it off as just “a kids’ detective series.” But it’s not. It’s a masterpiece about girlhood, lives, frienship, everything wrong with society- and everything great too, written with the kind of care and brilliance that very few books ever pull off. It doesn’t just tell you a story- it gives new perspective. The author is brilliant- this type of writing can't be found everywhere.

I don't think my words can do justice to this literary masterpiece- whatever impression of the series you're taking away from my post, assume I meant it to be a hundred, a thousand times better. Because believe me, it is.