HOW even to begin to take on that depth charge of a novel, Lady Chatterley's Lover, especially now, in this post-Fifty Shades of Grey world? How to freight the writing of sex with freshness and renewal and audacity - with surprise? Aren't we meant to have seen it all by now, done it all, thought it all? How to update the novel's setting from the forbidding environs of Nottinghamshire's Wragby Hall, with its necklace of grubby coalmines encroaching on it?