When the narrator is describing Calixta through Bobinôt’s eyes, they use hyperbole as well as a simile, as seen in the following passage:
Her eyes,—Bobinôt thought of her eyes, and weakened,—the bluest, the drowsiest, most tantalizing that ever looked into a man’s; he thought of […] that broad, smiling mouth and tiptilted nose, that full figure; that voice like a rich contralto song, with cadences in it that must have been taught by Satan, for there was no one else to teach her tricks on that ’Cadian prairie.
The hyperbolic language here—in which Bobinôt reflects on how Calixta’s eyes are “the bluest, the drowsiest, most tantalizing that ever looked into a man’s”—is clearly exaggerated in order to communicate how deeply Bobinôt loves her. It is of course not possible to prove these sorts of superlative statements (“bluest,” drowsiest,” etc.), but, due to Bobinôt's fascination with Calixta, he likely believes this to be the truth.
The simile here—in which Bobinôt compares Calixta’s voice to “a rich contralto song”—again helps readers to understand how infatuated he is with her. To most people, Calixta’s voice probably sounds like a normal voice, but to Bobinôt it sounds like music. It is notable that Bobinôt thinks to himself that the “cadences” of her voice’s song “must have been taught by Satan.” In this way, Bobinôt suggests that he is being tricked into loving Calixta as deeply as he does and that it is not a choice he would intentionally make. For most of the characters in the story, the objects of their affection are people they feel drawn to by outside forces rather than through their own agency or choice.
