David Wroblewski has a deep affinity for the northern Wisconsin countryside, but his debut novel’s idyllic backdrop doesn’t prevent him from steering the story toward mysticism, murder and mayhem. The title character is a precocious mute who divides his time between reading and assisting his parents in the family dog-breeding business. Sawtelle Dogs, as the family’s special pups are called, hint at this book’s slow-growing fantasy plot: They can interpret Edgar’s pidgin sign language with uncanny ease. Once trained, these canines fetch a high price.

But even with brilliant dogs, life on the Sawtelle farm means hard work. So when our hero’s rambling uncle Claude appears after a long absence, Edgar’s father gives the man work, overlooking his troubled history (think dogfights and debauchery). It’s not long before the happy reunion devolves into resentment and violence. Home life becomes a nightmare for Edgar, who runs off into the woods with three dogs and little else, turning this family drama into a phantom-packed survival narrative.

A first-time author, Wroblewski sometimes shows his inexperience. He all-too-quickly resorts to visions and convenient encounters when Edgar finds himself in a pinch: A ghost in the rain repeatedly leads him to important clues in his quest to survive the harsh wilderness. And at over 500 pages, this book is a long journey. Thrill-seekers might find themselves craving more Cujo, less Marley & Me. Yet this novel’s real touchstone is Hamlet, and it smolders with enough well-wrought spookiness to lend most of the baggier passages a growing tension. It’s clear that Edgar has to go back home, and when he finally does, the real horror starts.