“So this is a thought,” the Baby Nostradamus said, speaking not with his lips but by touching Little Merced’s palm. “Right now Saturn can see it. He can see anything that you or I think, but we have the power to hide ourselves without using lead.”
And so the Baby Nostradamus demonstrated, concealing what was a perfectly legible and discernible thought:
On page 160, Baby Nostradamus once again expresses himself telepathically, this time to Little Merced. Moments such as these are reminiscent of the supernatural writing style of Gabriel García Márquez. In fact, this entire novel is evocative of García Márquez’s work. Salvador Plascencia has a knack for making surreal happenings sound normal such as Baby Nostradamus, a mentally retarded baby, communicating to Little Merced through her palms, all while Saturn is completely capable of observing the telepathic thoughts each of them withhold. All of this surrealism must be a metaphor for something else.