
Very few of us would say that commuting is fun, special, or cathartic in any way. Most of us would probably declare without hesitation that we’re so exhaustedly used to commuting that we don’t even take that moment of the day into account anymore. Commuting is just a moment in which we exist as we’re transported from one place to another.
The prosaicness of commuting is given a miraculous and spellbinding aura in Hiro Arikawa’s The Passengers on the Hankyu Line, a healing fiction novel that feels heartfelt and authentic โ delightful without ever being saccharine, inspiring without ever being overly moralising.
This review is spoiler-free, but if you’re in a rush, you can pin our summary at the bottom!

Originally published in Japan in 2008, The Passengers on the Hankyu Line only found its way to English-speaking bookstores last June through a translation by the award-winning Allison Markin Powell. Short and sweet, The Passengers on the Hankyu Line offers a collection of interlinked stories set aboard or around the commuter trains that connect Takarazuka to Nishinomiya-Kitaguchi Station on the Imazu Line, in the Kansai region.
We follow these trains as they stop station after station, carrying characters whose lives become intertwined by love and heartbreak, consideration and disdain, hope and doubt. Their often fleeting, yet profoundly transformative, encounters prove that a word or gesture of kindness we offer a stranger can change one’s whole world. In The Passengers on the Hankyu Line, healing can start with a piece of unexpected advice, and support can be found in the laughter of a fellow commuter.
Left: UK cover of Hiro Arikawa’s The Passengers on the Hankyu Line (Credit: Transworld Publishers)
Arikawa’s prose is naturally romantic and charmingly candid. Her world-building is warm and welcoming, binding us to her fairly wide cast of protagonists. The Passengers on the Hankyu Line introduces us to nine core characters whose existences come alive despite the limited background we’re offered. Even though these people only exist within the confines of train carriages, railway platforms, and their surrounding neighbourhoods, they feel strangely familiar.
Each and every one of Arikawa’s characters is faced with relatable dilemmas and common troubles โ and we can’t help but recognise ourselves in their fears, worries, and hesitation. We come to care about them, celebrating their victories and finding comfort and hope in their journey.
The Passengers on the Hankyu Line is a story about journeys, after all. The trains that transport these people don’t just take them to their desired physical destination, but allow them to embark on an emotional and empowering quest for a more confident, fulfilled, and humane version of themselves. As their journeys intertwine, they spontaneously spark sincere exchanges that provide Arikawa’s protagonists with the clarity, empathy, and courage they seek. Their trip reminds them that they aren’t alone, that they live in a world with other beings who can be both very similar and completely different from them.
The characters in The Passengers on the Hankyu Line are then persuaded to step out of the little bubble they live in and look at the environment around them โ and its inhabitants โ in all their beauty and ugliness. We’re all connected: our actions affect the people we encounter, and their actions affect us too. The words we offer others, the hands we extend, the decisions we make โ they all have consequences that ripple through the spaces we occupy, the relationships we establish, and the things we do. As a society, all of our actions come together to create the reality that surrounds us, so the question that The Passengers on the Hankyu Line encourages us to keep in mind is: how can my (perhaps seemingly small and unimportant) actions make the world a tad better today?
There’s a cleverness and gentleness in the way that Arikawa allows her characters to cross paths, which establishes a universe that feels bustling and ever-changing. She never tries to overcomplicate or stuff her stories with melodrama. Instead, Arikawa gives her narrative a heartwarming simplicity โ life is intricate and fascinating just the way it is, without the need for histrionics. The Passengers on the Hankyu Line is easy and quick to read, and, to make it all even more straightforward, the English version includes a “dramatis personae” (a.k.a. a list of characters) and a list of stations on the Imazu line you can always refer back to. The author’s note also provides additional clarifications to those not familiar with the Hankyu Railway Line.
In the same line as Kim Ho-yeon’s The Second Chance Convenience Store, The Passengers on the Hankyu Line invites us to marvel at the interconnectedness of our lives, the astonishing power of small acts of kindness, and the magic that hides in the mundane. Soothing and tender, this is a rewarding and uplifting read that ignites in us the hope that our boring everyday commute might be more life-changing than we could ever expect.

Fun fact: The novel was so popular domestically that it was adapted into a film, Hankyu Railways: A 15-minute Miracle (dir. Yoshishige Miyake, 2011), which can be quite tricky to find outside Japan (but you can watch it on Prime Video, Telasa or Hikari TV if you’re in Japan).
If you enjoy Arikawa’s work, here’s a quick reminder that two of her other novels have been translated into English by Philip Gabriel: The Goodbye Cat and the renowned The Travelling Cat Chronicles. You can now find The Passengers on the Hankyu Line, The Goodbye Cat and The Travelling Cat Chronicles at bookshops and libraries all around the world.




Leave a Reply