Description of the generalito's look
The writer uses a simile in comparing the generalito's look to a death's head. This particular use of this simile by the writer plays the role of enhancing the reader's image of the same in their mind. The writer states: "Taciturn, stiff, silhouetted at a far window, watching the changing of the guards across the dingy grounds of the monastery, he looked like a death’s-head in black spectacles and clerical cravat."
The bristling of the Santander's hair
A simile is used by the writer in expression of the Santander's bristling hair. The writer compares it to a hedgehog and a bull's neck a situation that enhances imagery: "Thus spoke a highland vintner from Santander, a squat, swarthy soul with a twang, with hair bristling like a hedgehog and a bull’s neck that overflowed his celluloid collar; his shrill voice shrieked out at just the wrong time, like a theater claque."
The response to Don Celestino's speech, shuffling like steers
In expression of the way people reacted to the words of don Celestino's speech, the narrator uses a simile in which the applause and shuffling around is compared to that of flagstones. This enhances imagery: "The line burst into applause, shuffling around the flagstones like steersswatting at hornets."
The gleaming of Don Cele's baldpate
As Don celes blows his cream-frosted mustache and inhaling sybaritic aromas, the writer uses a simile to compare the gleaming of his baldpate to a Buddha belly: "Don Celes blew on his cream-frosted mustache, inhaling with sybaritic relish the barbershop aromas that rose up off his person. His large onion of a baldpate gleamed like a Buddha belly and his thoughts evaporated in a
haze of Oriental mirages."
The scurrying of Whitey's tilbury like a black widow
The writer uses a simile in the novel in particular expression of the way in which the Whitey's tilbury scurried. In this case, the scurrying is directly compared to that of a black widow: "The white-capped waves glistened, and the barracks’ buglers shot red flares into the deep blue of the desolate evening. Whitey’s tilbury scurried like a black widow up the sunny end of the Mostenses slope."
